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LORETTA 


The Sunshine of the 
Convent 


A NOVEL 


BY 

GILBERT GUEST 

1^ 


OMAHA 

BURKLEY PRINTING COMPANY 
MCMXXI 



Copyrighted, 1921, by 
Florence Brenan, 
Omaha, Nebraska, U. S. A. 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. The Convent Sunshine 7 

II. The Past is Present 9 

III. Loretta Finds a Fairy Godfather in the New 

World 15 

IV. A Mutual Admiration 25 

V. Loretta Sees a New Phase of Her Father 28 

VI. At the Sight of Liberty Light House, Loretta 

Realizes She is an American 32 

VII. Which is Mistress in the New York Mansion 35 

VIII. New Duties With New Experiences 38 

IX. Loretta Touches a New York Society Woman... 51 

X. The Storm Breaks 58 

XI. A Heart to Heart Talk 62 

XII. Looking for a Counsellor 67 

XIII. Lawrence Seems to Lack Principle 71 

XIV. Kate Throws a Bomb 78 

XV. The Convent Sunshine in Modern Paganism 86 

XVI. A Love Story by a Lover 88 

XVII. A Revelation of Soul 98 

XVIII. The True Convent Girl 104 

XIX. Mrs. Harcourt’s Diplomacy 106 

XX. The Candy Pull 116 

XXI. A Soul’s Struggle 121 

XXII. Lawrence Learns the Art of Being a Gentleman. . 124 

XXIII. Where is Mr. Sibley? 130 

XXIV. Lawrence Grows in Diplomacy 136 

XXV. When You Daily Meet Christ You Meet a Cross. . 139 

XXVI. Lawrence Gets Interested in Politics and 

Plumbers 143 

XXVII. Loretta’s First Ball 150 

XXVIII. “The Shadow of the Garden’’ 159 

XXIX. When Greek Meets Greek 160 

XXX. A Perfect Act of Contrition 163 

XXXI. All’s Well that Ends Well 165 

XXXII. Two Letters 166 

XXXIII. Lawrence Illustrates Willpower 169 

XXXIV. Mollie Wins Out 171 

XXXV. The Sunshine of the Convent 173 



LORETTA 


THE SUNSHINE OF THE CONVENT 


CHAPTER I 

THE CONVENT SUNSHINE 

The gay group of school girls was suddenly hushed 
into silence as Sister Martina stepped into their midst. 

Then bedlam let loose, the sister was besieged on 
all sides. She had spoken in French, but she was over- 
whelmed with an avalanche of French, Spanish, German 
and English. The school was a French Academy so fam- 
ous for its discipline and teaching that its pupils were of 
many nationalities. 

Raising her hand. Sister Martina stilled the tumult 
and said, 

‘‘Loretta, Loretta, where is she?’’ 

Each girl turned in amazed silence to mutely question 
her neighbor. Loretta, the idol of the school, had received 
a call to the parlor. It was impossible. 

“Young ladies can you find her?” Instantaneously 
half a dozen eager girls went in search of Loretta. With 
a noiseless bound a tall, well rounded, but slender girl, 
willowy in her movements, stood in their midst. 

Above the black uniform dress of the school rose a 
head of striking beauty. Her face was exquisitely white, 
not with the pallor of sickness, nor the stiff cold clearness 

7 


of marble, but with the translucent whiteness sometimes 
found in the healthy lover of books. The delicate pink 
cheeks, however, could, on a moment ^s notice, bloom with 
the hue of the wild rose, while her eyes, clear wells of in- 
nocence, would glow in sympathy with the sudden emotion 
Every movement of her slender form was fraught with 
unconscious grace. A wealth of chestnut curls, parted 
simply in the middle of her head, beginning with pretty 
golden rings round her forehead, and gradually increas- 
ing in length till they reached her slender waist, made 
her head a vision of beauty. 

Her movements were swift and noiseless and as she 
stood in the crowd of girlish worshipers, she seemed a 
woodland nymph, poising a moment before taking flight. 


8 


CHAPTER II 

THE PAST IS PRESENT 

“Loretta,” the girls cried, “you are wanted in the 
parlor. ’ ^ 

“In the parlor,” echoed Loretta, “truly Sister Mar- 
tina, do you want me?” 

‘ ‘ Truly, dear, ’ ’ smiled the sister, ‘ ‘ come quickly. The 
girls interposed. Loretta, their beloved one, was going for 
the first time in her long school life, alone to the parlor. 

“Sister, let her change her dress. Let me smooth her 
curls,” they exclaimed with ready sympathy. Quiet 
though she was, the sister had an eye for the artistic 
and she saw that the tumbled curls were more charming 
in their disorder than they would be, if smoothed into 
regular lines, so repulsing all proffered help, she quickly 
left the room followed by Loretta. 

“Who is it. Sister?” breathlessly demanded the eager 
girl ; but without answering, the sister sped down the long 
corridor till, stopping before the parlor door, she awaited 
Loretta, then pushing her in gently, left her alone with 
the visitor. 

In the dim shadows of an immense parlor, a gentle- 
man was seated with his back to one of the heavily cur- 
tained windows, and as Loretta could not distinguish his 
features, she stood irresolutely at the door-way, shyly 
waiting for the visitor to speak. He approached her 
quickly and when near enough to see her plainly, his as- 
pirated “My God,” so startled the young girl, that she 
turned to flee from his presence, but was stayed as he 
caught her flowing ringlets, saying, 

9 


“Loretta, my beloved child, would you fly from your 
father? I frightened you, I know that I did, but you 
have grown so like your dead mother, that for a brief 
second, I believed you were she. You are not afraid of me 
darling?’^ the man’s voice broke. He held out his arms 
pleadingly; in his anxiety, he had turned to the side and 
so had let the light from the window fall on his face. 

In repose the face was stern with strength; but il- 
lumined by love as Loretta saw it, it was a countenance 
full of light and tenderness. A rapid glance, a moment’s 
hesitation, and the young girl shyly threw herself into 
her father’s extended arms. 

Sixteen years ago, Gerald Gibbons, a rich American, 
while traveling through France was left a widower with 
a young son and an infant daughter barely a week old. 
Nearly distraught by his added responsibility and sudden 
affliction, he made his way to the convent with the nurse, 
his infant daughter and a one year old boy, and franti- 
cally besought the nuns to take the three. 

At first, the Mother Superior promptly refused, but as 
the distracted man pleaded his necessity, alone in a strange 
country, knowing no language but his own, called home 
imperatively by business, utterly ignorant about the bring- 
ing up of children, she yielded so far as to take the baby 
without the nurse. And Loretta passed sixteen sweetly 
peaceful years with the gentle French nuns, before her 
father thought of claiming her. 

It seemed strange to them that a man so wealthy as 
Mr. Gibbons should have allowed so many years to slide 
by without crossing the water to see his little daughter. 
Business first, then a growing aversion for the daughter 
that caused her mother’s death, were the reasons for his 
apparent indifference. 


10 


The fact that business brought him into that part of 
France was the occasion of Loretta meeting her father 
for the first time. He had passsionately loved his wife 
and when he saw his beautiful daughter looking in at 
the parlor door, the striking resemblance to her mother 
set into wild longing all his parental affection. 

He had visited the Convent without any purpose ex- 
cept a passing call of ceremony, but his plans were quickly 
formulated. 

“Loretta, my precious darling, my ship sails tomor- 
row. You must he ready to go with me,” as he saw her 
startled expression, “you are not afraid of me, my dove, 
see here is your mother’s picture. Loretta, she loved 
me.” He broke down. Loretta, quick and tender-hearted, 
understood. “And I love you too, father, yes, I will go 
with you, but how can I leave my dearest friends so 
soon?” He frowned, his face was full of a dark rugged 
strength and Loretta shrank from him, but catching and 
folding her to his heart, he said, 

“My precious child, if these nuns have taught you 
well, they have told you that your father must come be- 
fore them. I am sorry to hasten you, but I am a very busy 
man and must be in New York by a certain date. Of 
course I could return for you, but Loretta, since I have 
seen how like your mother you have grown, I cannot 
leave without you. Go dear, make preparations and I 
will return.” He clasped her passionately to his heart 
and so checked the burning words that sprang to her lips ; 
when he released her, his eyes were full of tears, and pity 
for him again silenced her impetuous protests. 

Bidding her in a gentle tone of command to call the 
Superior, he hastily informed the sorrowing sister of his 
intention to take his daughter. The news spread through 

11 


the house, from the graduating room to the kitchen. “Lo- 
retta, their beloved Loretta, was going to leave them, 
their baby, their very own child was leaving them for- 
ever, ’ ’ Sorrow and lamentation burst forth. 

The young girl herself when her father had gone to 
prepare for their hasty departure, was inconsolable. 

“Oh, my precious Mother,” she cried, frantically 
embracing old Sister Ambrose who had been her nurse 
and life-long friend. “How can I go! How can I leave 
you the only mother I have ever known ? What am I say- 
ing ? Are they not all mothers to me ; my precious darling 
Sisters. Oh CAN I live without them ? ’ ^ she sobbed. 

Sister Ambrose mingled her tears with the young 
girl’s. “My darling Loretta, he is your father.” 

“I know it, dear Sister, I know that I shall love him; 
but — but I am afraid of him, I don’t know him as I know 
you all. I shall die, I know I shall.” 

The sister gently caressed her till the paroxysm of 
grief spent itself and then said brokenly, 

“It’s a great grief, my precious child, but we feel it 
too. You, in time will become reconciled, you will have 
your father and you will have learned to love him, but we 
know when our baby leaves us, she has gone forever.” 

A burst of grief interrupted her. 

“Sister, why do you tell me this?” 

“My child, to teach you patience. When you leave 
me, I will feel as if a part of my heart goes with you ; still 
I know it is your duty to go with your father, therefore, 
I bow to the will of God; and say God be with you. I 
held you in my arms when you were a helpless, smiling 
baby. The Mother Superior had told your father it was 
contrary to our customs to take care of infants, when with 
a crow of delight you put up two hands and clasped my 

12 


cheeks and cooed. ‘See, Mother,’ I cried, ‘the baby wants 
me, give her to me. I will take entire charge of her ; and 
Mother,’ I tactfully added, ‘I will then have no time to 
be lonesome.’ Six months before you came, while travel- 
ing with my parents through Europe, I had stopped here 
to rest ; I was not strong, and the physicians had said my 
native air, the city of Boston in America, was too strong 
for my constitution, so my parents brought me here; the 
first time I entered this Convent I felt such a peace as I 
had never before experienced and then and there I told 
my mother and father that I should have to remain. You 
can imagine what they felt. But they were good Catholics 
and recognizing God’s will, sorrowfully bade me goodbye. 
I have never regretted the act, though my heart nearly 
broke when I parted with them. You, my precious child, 
were a great consolation to me; all the sisters spoke a 
foreign tongue, but the first words you lisped were Eng- 
lish ones ; perhaps if I had not had you to talk to I might 
have forgotten my own language. And now my baby, 
you must do your duty in separating from me to go with 
your father, as years ago, T did mine.” 

She ceased, and together they mingled their tears, 
till a sudden entrance of an anxious crowd of girls put 
an end to the sad scene. Everyone, from the smallest 
child, had some gift for their worshipped companion; so 
many were the presents that Loretta laughing and crying 
said, 

“Oh, where shall I put them? I have but one trunk.” 

“Ma belle,” cried a gay English girl whose swollen 
eyes emphatically expressed her grief, “Ma belle, you 
shall take mine ; no, not a word. Put all your clothes and 
gifts into my large trunk and I shall keep your little one 
till I die, and then I shall be buried in it.” 

13 


As the speaker was abnormally large, the absurdity of 
squeezing herself into a small trunk provoked a hearty 
laugh in which even Loretta joined. 

In the midst of all the excitement, the Mother Su- 
perior, followed by Mr. Gibbons appeared. The girls held 
their breath for one brief second, but when their beloved 
Loretta put on her hat preparatory to leave, a wild burst 
of sorrow broke from all. 

Mr. Gibbons himself was touched, and in order to hide 
his feelings, took an abrupt leave almost carrying Loretta 
to the carriage. Throwing herself into the corner of the 
seat, she was about to give way to uncontrollable grief 
when a soft, 

‘‘Pardon, Monsieur, Loretta my child,” aroused her. 
Hastily quitting the carriage she threw herself on her 
knees before the Mother Superior and folding her hands 
said, 

“Bless me, my Mother.” 

The nun with impressive earnestness laid her hands 
on the gold-brown head and bending low over it murmur- 
ed tenderly, 

“Courage Loretta, the performance of duty is the 
greatest nobility.” 

With a mighty effort the young girl sobbingly as- 
sured her, when she had finished crying, she would be 
brave, and then tearing herself away, she once more en- 
tered the carriage. 


14 


CHAPTER III 

LORETTA FINDS A FAIRY GODFATHER IN 
HER NEW WORLD 

Borne swiftly away, a new era opened in her life. 
For a time nothing was heard but the soft whir of the 
carriage, the clatter of the rapidly moving horses and the 
stifled heart-broken sobs of Loretta. 

With the deepest sympathy Mr. Gibbons watched the 
fragile flgure shaken by the pent-up grief within it and 
yielding to a sudden impulse, he gently took his daughter 
to his heart and said tenderly, 

‘ ‘ My little girl, my poor baby, do not try to keep back 
your sorrow. Cry here on my heart, you prototype of my 
dear dead wife.’’ 

The soft, rich voice was a surprise to Loretta. Look- 
ing up quickly and catching the tender glance of two 
brilliant eyes, she realized that if she had left the shelter 
of one love, she was resting in that of another, strange in- 
deed, but deeply tender. 

Obeying his behest, she let her grief have full ex- 
pression and in consequence of the freedom, she recovered 
sooner than she would otherwise have done. 

A couple of hours after leaving the Convent, she 
found herself talking with ease to the father whom the 
day before she had not known. ’Twas the first long ride she 
had had in her short young life. In spite of sorrow, every- 
thing appealed to her, the people as they passed, the 
scenery, the villages and finally the railroad station — 
what a wonderful place it was with its ever changing 


15 


crowd, the whir and bustle. With delight her father saw' 
her cheek glow like a wild rose, her eyes dilate with ex- 
citement, but when they boarded the train, and the en- 
gine began to snort, and the whistle to shriek, in real 
terror Loretta clung to him. Sympathetic, yet pleased by 
the mute appeal to him as her protector, he soothed her 
while explaining away her doubts. Fear soon gave place 
to pleasure and Mr. Gibbons realized, though the girl 
possessed a clear brain, well stocked with general infor- 
mation as to pedagogic lore, she was absolutely ignorant 
of the world and its wiles. Sin existed for her in the ab- 
stract — the world was sinful, the nuns had told her so — 
but why did people want to sin, the earth was full of 
beauty. 

“Papa, see that bend in the river — note how the sun- 
light glints the leaves — oh, it has vanished. Mother Ber- 
nard says that is the way with the joys of this world. You 
see them and they are gone,’’ she stopped to mutely 
question him with her beautiful eyes. 

“Loretta, my girl, the world shall be full of beauty 
for you. Do you understand, I am a very rich man, and 
all that money can buy is yours. Do you take what I 
mean?” 

She did not answer him but gazing thoughtfully at 
him seemed not to see him. 

“Girlie, wake up. What do you desire most. Anything 
that money can buy you shall have. We are nearing Paris 
— we have a lay olf there of a couple of hours, our steamer 
does not start till five, so we can visit the stores and 
empty them if you say.” He laughed heartily as he saw 
her sudden start of comprehension and her eyes dilate with 
pleasure. 

“Oh papa, you are just like a fairy Prince. Sister 
16 


Ambrose used to tell me wonderful stories because she 
said that when a person went through life not having the 
imagination developed she lost half the pleasure of 
living. ’ ’ 

He looked at her vdth puzzled amazement, fairy lit- 
erature was to him an unknown quantity. 

‘ ‘ She did, did she ! Humph, I wonder what an old 
nun knows about pleasure?” The shocked expression on 
Loretta’s face warned him he was on delicate ground, a 
keen man of business, accustomed to read through the 
motives of friend or foe, he understood that he must do 
or say nothing to shake her awakened confidence in him. 

‘ ‘ Of course, child. Sister Ambrose knows more about 
those things than I do. All the fairies I know are an 
impish kind that jump around in the shape of Bears and 
Bulls.” 

‘‘Now papa, of course fairies only exist in the imagi- 
nation, but I can easily think — Oh see those beautiful 
flowers,” the train was slowly entering the city and had 
been boarded by the usual vendors of small articles, one 
of whom was selling flowers. 

‘‘Here you boy — take your choice, Loretta. All 
right. Ten francs, here you are,” throwing the boy a lire. 
“Change? don’t bother, it’s worth twice as much,” turn- 
ing with pride to watch the delight of Loretta. 

“You were saying you could easily think?” 

“I forget now — but see, could not I imagine this 
exquisite flower a dear little fairy with red and gold 
wings?” 

‘ ‘ Hanged if I could — but I tell you what I could do — 
I could easily imagine you a fairy.” 

“Dear me, I’m too tall, they are very tiny you know.” 

17 


“You are very beautiful, child, far more beautiful 
than those flowers/’ 

“Yes,” she answered gravely, not at all elated by the 
compliment, “Sister Letitia taught us the human soul 
ranked higher than the vegetable soul.” 

The man of business gasped. What manner of child 
was she — innocent as an angel gravely talking philosophy, 
although he did not recognize it as such, he did feel that she 
was, as he would have expressed it, talking over his head. 

Dismissing an awkward subject as was his wont with 
a big bluster, he replied, 

“Come now, how about emptying these stores — how 
about getting a couple of Saratogas full of new finery?” 

“Saratogas?” she repeated. 

“Yes, American for trunk,” he laughed. 

“Oh, I don’t need any clothes, but papa if you mean 
I can have whatever I want ? ’ ’ 

“Yes,” he interrupted eagerly, “anything you damn 
please, pardon the slip dear, I am so used to dealing with 
hard-headed, hard-fisted men, that I am somewhat rough 
in my speech, you won’t mind me child?” he humbly 
asked. 

Vaguely understanding his dominant disposition, but 
thoroughly alive to the fact her father worshiped her, 
Loretta answered sweetly, 

“Yes, papa, I will both mind and love you.” 

Then Loretta lost her breath and the passengers back 
of her gasped in amazed astonishment as the grave auto- 
crat of Wall Street caught his daughter to his heart. 

“There, I’ll never do it again,” he laughed — “till the 
next time. Come on, here we are.” 

“Porter see that those duds are put on a truck and 
sent to Steamer Hans Albert. Here Loretta, step in here, ’ ’ 

18 


entering a carriage as he spoke. “And driver take us to 
Bon Marche. Now then, Loretta, what do you want?’^ 

“Papa,” she hurriedly exclaimed, realizing that she 
was going to a store, “If I can have anything I desire, 
I would like to send a present to every nun and pupil at 
Sancte Marie, but — ” she stopped and looked inquiring- 
ly into his eager face. 

“Well?” he asked. 

“There are seventy girls and, let me see,” counting 
on her fingers, “thirty nuns,” she gazed questioningly at 
him. “Is it too many?” she timidly asked him. 

‘ ‘ Too many — ha ! ha ! ha ! Why jmu could give a 
thousand if it would make you happy.” 

Delightedly hugging him she began searching in great 
haste in a little handbag she carried. 

“What’s up now?” he asked. 

“I had a little pencil here, but I can’t find it — and 
a little tablet, but — ” 

“See here,” producing a fountain pen and a large 
tablet of paper from one of his voluminous pockets. “Pro- 
ceed — Present No. one?” 

“Oh dear, I can’t think — Mother Bernard ought to 
come first because she is the head, you know.” 

“Of course,” he replied falling in with her humor. 
“What will you get her?” 

“Oh, I can’t think — isn’t it delightful, just like 
Aladdin and his wonderful lamp!” 

“Just so,” he gladly assented, not quite certain if 
Aladdin was not one of the convent’s patron saints 
“Well?” 

“Oh on her Feast Day they always give her books — 
and pieces of furniture — but it seems to me they are not 

19 


just for her very own self, because all the girls and nuns 
use them. What do you think, papa?” 

“Cut them out.” 

Her puzzled expression delighted him and he pro- 
ceeded to explain that his idea of a gift was something the 
receiver could look upon as her own. 

“You think just as I do, papa,” she joyously cried. 
“Oh, oh,” the delighted exclamations were caused by 
the beautifully decorated shop windows. They had alight- 
ed at the Bon Marche and were soon standing by one of 
the big counters and the obsequious clerk causing Loretta 
much embarrasment as the list of presents had not been 
written. 

“Show this young lady some of your prettiest wares.” 
They happened to be in front of the hosiery — and at the 
word of command Loretta was literally deluged with 
boxes of hosiery — gazing bewildered at them, half fancy- 
ing she was dreaming, she fingered them doubtfully while 
her father understanding her indecision as non-satisfac- 
tion, commanded the clerk to take them away and bring 
silk ones. Beautiful silk hosiery of all colors, pink red, 
blue, lay before her, what would she do — she had never 
seen the nuns stockings and felt dimly that these were 
not quite right. 

“Papa, I don’t quite see what to do, they dress in 
black you know. ’ ’ The grim man of business had a strong 
sense of humor, picking up a beautiful box of yellow and 
pink silk stockings, he gravely replied, 

“That’s all right, they may have black outside and 
yellow inside. Suppose you take these.” 

Naturally generous but accustomed to the use of a 
certain number of articles of underwear, she picked out 
half a dozen pairs. 


20 


“Shall I take these?” she timidly asked. 

“Certainly not — take them by the box.” And so 
Mother Bernard , a short while after was the astonished 
recipient of two boxes of beautiful pink and yellow silk 
stockings, while Sister Ambrose received wonderful hand- 
kerchiefs, perfume, soap and silken underwear — and so 
on through the whole sisterhood, the sister’s presents 
being sent in a trunk marked for them. 

The advent of its coming was an occasion of much 
merriment. Never did the community room ring with such 
mirth, but the happy laughter was not unmingled with 
sadness. 

“God bless our darling,” laughed Mother Bernard, 
wiping away a tear, “nothing was too good for us.” 

The trunk sent the girls contained things pretty 
enough to set the ordinary school girl wild with excite- 
ment, for when Loretta became accustomed to the be- 
wilderment of the assemblage of beautiful articles, the 
woman in her soon came to the uppermost, and she, re- 
gardless of expense, picked out what appealed to her ar- 
tistic sense. Her father, delighted to see her assert her- 
self, obediently followed in her wake, paying the most ex- 
horbitant prices with a grin of satisfaction. 

At length, realizing that even pleasure may become 
a toil and noting with the quick eye of love that her father 
was looking tired she exclaimed, 

“Papa, I finished them all except Camille, and you are 
tired, my fairy god father.” 

“Not at all — get Camel something.” And so the 
rheumatic old gardener received a pair of suspenders 
gorgeous enough for a prince, not to speak of various 
other articles so beautiful that Camille blushingly de- 
clared only the Cure was good enough to wear them. 

21 


Looking at his watch Mr. Gibbons saw that a short 
interval of time remained before the hour set for the de- 
parture of the vessel, a hurried meal at a hotel, a dash of 
carriage wheels and the big steamer in the wharf awaited 
them. 

“Loretta child, that is your home for the next week, 
and by the by I forgot to mention your brother goes 
with us.’’ 

“My brother — how could I have forgotten. I just 
love him papa.” 

The father’s face clouded. 

“Loretta you love him? You have never seen him.” 

“Oh yes — his letters and his photograph. I think he 
is very handsome.” 

“Humph! Handsome is that handsome does.” She 
was bewildered, how strange her father had not spoken 
of Lawrence before — he did not seem pleased. Saddened, 
she knew not why, she followed him up the gangway 
soon forgetting in a new sensation all about her brother. 

To Loretta’s unsophisticated mind the attention 
with which the officers of the steamer welcomed her fath- 
er meant nothing more than good will. Even the Captain’s 
speech failed to make her understand her father’s pres- 
tige. 

“Welcome, Mr. Gibbons,” said the first officer, “your 
suite of rooms are kept for you, but I’ve had the time of 
my life to hold it. A bridal party telegraphed — then when 
I held that off, Duke de Branford telegraphed and offered 
to double the price.” 

“He did, did he? Damn his French impudence. What 
did you say to him Captain?” 

“Said an American duke held them.” 

“Bully for you,” slapping him on the back. “I’ll 
22 


make it square old man, but where is my son, isn’t he on 
board?” 

“Yes — he was on this morning, but after fixing some 
of his belongings in his stateroom went off with a party 
of young men.” 

Mr. Gibbons’ face was stern as he muttered, “Just 
like him, here Captain is the new passenger I telegraphed 
about, my daughter, Miss Gibbons.” 

Loretta at the sound of the unfamiliar title looked 
around as if expecting to see a real bona fide young lady 
acknowledge ownership to the same. She found instead 
the hearty old Captain gazing at her with undisguised 
admiration. 

After a short interchange of civilities her father con- 
ducted her down stairs and showed, with a good bit of 
pleasure, the handsome suite of rooms he had engaged. 

“Not quite as roomy as your home in New York will 
be, but I think, my child, this will answer the purpose. 
Eh! what do you think?” 

The chief thing of which she was thoroughly con- 
scious was the stuffy atmosphere so noticeable on a ship, 
especially when it is lying at rest in the harbor. She felt 
sickened, but her womanly intuition told her her father 
was longing for praise. 

“Tis pretty, papa, and far too big for me — I know I 
will be happy, but — ” 

“But what?” he insisted. 

She laughed. “It embarrasses me to see myself so 
often,” pointing to the many panelled mirrors. 

“ ’Tis not often a pretty girl objects to seeing her- 
self,” but turning to the porter who had just entered, 
“Well— what’s up?” 

“A party of gemmen, sar.” 

23 


“That’s all right, porter,” sung out a lusty voice. 
“Gibbons you thought to steal a march on us, didn’t 
you ? ’ ’ 

“ Great Scott, Tom, I did forget to call at the office, 
but you know I would have wired. ’ ’ 

“Very probably if the distraction did not continue,” 
looking towards Loretta. 

“My daughter, gentlemen.” 

With quiet unconscious grace the convent bred girl 
responded courteously to the effusive greetings and save 
for heightened color, few could guess this was her first 
public reception. The party, six gentlemen crowded 
round her and for a few seconds seemed to forget their 
urgent business, until the first speaker said, addressing 
her father, 

“You know the U. P. Bonds went up in the air just 
an hour ago.” 

At once Mr. Gibbons was the alert man of business. 
Turning quickly to Loretta he bade her in a low voice to 
wait on deck for him. 


24 


CHAPTER IV 

A MUTUAL ADMIRATION 

Obeying his behest, she mounted the steep ladder, 
pushed through a surging crowd of newcomers on the 
deck, soon found a sheltered corner near the dividing line 
of the second cabin and facing the sea was quickly lost in 
thought. How long she sat she knew not, but she looked 
up to see a young man with his hat held aloft regarding 
her with intense interest. 

“Pardon me — but I believe you are my sister.” 

“And you,” springing delightedly to her feet “are 
my brother.” And for an interval of time each regarded 
the other with pleasure. Then making the first advance, 
bending down a strikingly handsome head he said, 

“Allow me a brother’s privilege,” and gallantly 
kissed her. The blood surged to her cheeks and neck, then 
receding left her pale. 

“I have displeased you?” he questioned. 

“Oh no, Lawrence, I am delighted to find you. How 
grand you are!” she laughed joyously. 

Catching her hands in his he drew her down to a seat 
beside him. 

“Sit down my beautiful sister. You are a dream.” 

“Am I?” she frankly asked. You like me already?” 

“Like you,” he echoed, “if I were a Greek I’d wor- 
ship you as one of the deities.” 

“0, dear no, you should only worship God.” 

He watched her with a smile of delighted amusement. 
“Pious too! What does the Governor say?” 

“Governor?” she queried. 

25 


“Yes, Dad you know.” 

“Dad?” she echoed. 

“Father,” he explained, “what did he say about 
you ? ” 

“I don’t know Lawrence.” 

“Does he not think you beautiful?” 

“Oh, I suppose so,” she indifferently asserted, “but 
don’t let us talk about me; tell me about yourself.” 

“About myself,” he mused. “Nothing in that quart- 
er, Loretta, but trouble.” 

Her expression of sympathy was so sincere that in a 
short time she knew most of the chapters of his young 
unrestful life. In spite of herself as she listened to the 
tale of the misunderstanding between father and son, 
she espoused the cause of the latter, although she did not 
say so. It shocked her sense of right to learn that father 
and son did not love each other. 

“But Lawrence, if you explain when you get into 
these difficulties, about spending money.” 

“Explain,” he bitterly interrupted. Why he won’t 
let a fellow open his head,” in answer to her puzzled ex- 
pression. “That is slang for talk.” 

“Oh.” 

“He just pulls the strings tighter.” 

“What strings?” 

“Purse strings,” he laughed. “You literal young 
lady. You’ll have me talking English soon instead of 
American.” 

‘ ‘ Is there any difference ? ’ ’ she innocently asked. 

“Ha ha!” laughed he. “A wide difference between 
their slangs. What I mean, is the governor, no dad, father, 
I mean is so stingy.” 


26 


‘ ‘ Stingy, ’ ’ she exclaimed. ‘ ‘ Why he is a fairy prince 
in generosity. 

“I wish I saw some of it/’ 

‘ ‘ Do you mean to tell me, Lawrence, father does not 
give you money?” 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes, he gives me an allowance, but if I go beyond, 
— Great Scott, you ought to hear him ! Even on this trip 
he says I’ll have to pay for my stateroom. Now that’s not 
handsome, is it?” 

“I really do not know. I should imagine one as 
clever as he is in business would know best about those 
things, don’t you think so, dear?” she gently asked. 

^‘Clever, Oh yes — ‘A giant among giants, one of the 
big moguls of Wall Street,’ perhaps one of the biggest, 
but it would be a heap more comfortable if he were not 
so clever, he couldn’t rub it in so hard. Say Loretta, I 
ought to be ashamed of myself saddling you with my 
troubles the very first time we meet.” 

‘‘Lawrence, dear brother, promise me one thing,” 
she looked so charmingly eager that catching her hands 
in his he said, 

“Anything, dear — anything you wish.” 

“I want you to promise me that you will always 
bring me your troubles.” 

‘ ‘ To sadden you, ’ ’ he asked gravely. 

“No, that I may help you by my sympathy.” 

‘ ‘ Help me — you have done it already, the world looks 
brighter now than it did an hour ago. Jove, there is 
father. ’ ’ 


27 


CHAPTER V 

LORETTA SEES A NEW PHASE OF HER FATHER 

“You here, sir?” sternly demanded his father. “Why 
did you not meet us when we came aboard?” 

Lawrence at the sound of his voice sprang to his feet 
and stood shrinkingly before the angry man. Loretta 
could hardly believe the evidence of her eyes, the gallant 
brother was changed to a cringing coward — the attitude 
the son always took on occasions like this, made the father 
look on him with the contempt a strong man sometimes 
regards a weaker one. 

“What was the reason, sir?” he angrily demanded. 

“Why father, the boys — the — ” stammered Lawrence, 

“The bo3^s — always the boys. Yes you think more of 
your scamps of companions than you do of the decencies 
of life. By all codes of politeness you should have been 
here to welcome you sister. I see you have made her ac- 
quaintance. Come Loretta, the first bell has sounded for 
supper. I suppose in your intense interest in this rude 
chap you didn't even notice we have put out to sea.” 

Her exclamation of surprised wonder, partly allayed 
his anger. 

“Didn’t notice, eh? Thought so. Come on.” 

Taking the arm extended to her, Loretta went a few 
steps and turning to look back, touched to the heart at 
the abject humility of Lawrence, stopped her father, and 
looking him straight in the eyes, with an unconscious 
assumption of his determined manner said, 

“Father, Lawrence must come with us.” 

Startled by the likeness to himself he chuckled with 
28 


delight and answered quickly, “Anything you say goes, 
Loretta./' Putting her hand out at her side she called, 

“Lawrence, come." 

Delighted to find he had a champion in her, he sprang 
eagerly forward and seizing her hand squeezed it so as to 
make her wince. 

Arrived at the Captain's table, Mr. Gibbons was as- 
signed the place of honor, but he was not at all pleased 
by the Captain’s placing of Loretta and Lawrence, they, 
brother and sister, being seated some six chairs below, so, 
as the Captain explained, the young people at the end 
might have a good time. 

Delightedly taking his place, Lawrence said, “Bless- 
ings on the Captain for a level headed American. This is 
immense, Loretta, we have the end to ourselves. Wine, 
waiter did you ask? Certainly, a gallon, a gallon, maybe 
a vineyard to celebrate this lucky happening," laughed 
Lawrence, while the colored waiter understanding he was 
dealing with a multi-millionaire’s son, bowed obsequiously 
and replied, 

“S art inly, sar." 

Loretta then saw her brother at his best. His was a 
pleasure-loving nature, never happier than when among 
gay young people, brilliant when he chose to be, as being 
well read, his witticisms scintillated like beads on the 
champagne he was so generously drinking. Indeed the 
more he drank, up to a certain point when he became 
stupid, the more delightful he waxed. Loretta was car- 
ried out of herself and watched him rapturously. How 
handsome he was, his curly head thrown back, his teeth 
flashing, his chiseled mouth wreathed in smiles, bewitch- 
ing, tantalizing, nay at times, almost childlike, and when 

29 


he laughed aloud, how musical were the tones, how ring- 
ing in their gladness. 

The mirth of the party at the lower end was all un- 
heeded by their seniors who, finding a congenial topic 
were immensely interested in themselves. 

But like all the pleasures of this world, this end party 
came to an untimely close. 

“Pardon, Miss Hastings, may I assist you?” cried 
Lawrence, springing to his feet with a decided stagger and 
offering his arm to a very sick young lady. Sick as she 
was, his stagger had not passed unnoticed, so hastily de- 
clining his help she climbed in a headlong desperate man- 
ner up the campanion way. Loretta gazed after her, awe- 
struck by her dramatic exit. 

“What ails her, Lawrence?” 

“Nothing, sister, a question of feelings, that’s all.” 

“Feelings?” echoed Loretta. “Did anyone hurt her 
feelings?” 

Ha, ha!” laughed Lawrence, “Yes, Old Neptune is 
the guilty party. Oh, surely. Miss Mary, you are not 
going to desert us?” catching another young lady in his 
arms as she lurched violently forward. 

“Oh, oh, I feel so bad, Mr. Gibbons. Oh, I shall die 1” 

Rising in alarm with intense sympathy depicted on 
her lovely face Loretta cried, 

“Oh, what is the matter with them all?” but Law- 
rence had already mounted the stairs carrying, half drag- 
ging a very miserable young lady. 

“The commotion at the lower end of the table had 
aroused the interest of the older party and dinner for 
the time being was at an end. 

It was not long before Loretta understood the mean- 
ing of a sudden stampede from the table. The embodi- 

30 


ment of health herself, her main solicitude was to help, 
and so anxious and ready was she to wait on the sick that 
if her father had not interfered, she too might have joined 
their ranks. 

‘‘See here, Loretta,” he said one morning, catching 
her in the act of helping a sick woman, “will you kindly 
remember you do not belong to yourself, you are mine, 
and I strongly object to you making a nigger of yourself 
for these people. Let them get the stewardess.” 

“Dear father, the poor woman is nearly dead.” 

“But that’s none of your business.” 

“Yes, you dear, cross, old father, a good little girl 
ought to help every one, rich and poor.” 

“No siree, not by a long shot.” 

“You want me to be happy, papa?” 

“Sure thing!” 

“I will be most unhappy if you will not permit me 
to be kind to people.” 

“Now look here, little girl, the only object I have 
in life is your happiness. Be kind to every damn old 
thing you want to but be sensible. Give me and your 
brother the greater part of your time.” 

In the short but happy days of that eventful voyage, 
Loretta was thoroughly under the spell of her brother’s 
charming personality. The only cloud that dimmed the 
happiness of the time was that she instinctively felt when 
gaily conversing with Lawrence her father was keenly 
watchful of them. This surveillance was not unnoticed 
by the younger man and he chafed under it, showing her 
his nervous irritation. A few loving words, however, 
dissipated the ugly mood and brother and sister were hap- 
py in each other. 


31 


CHAPTER VI 

AT THE SIGHT OF LIBERTY LIGHT HOUSE 
LORETTA REALIZES SHE IS AN AMERICAN 

The seventh day of their leaving Dieppe saw their 
steamer approaching the Liberty Light House. It was the 
loveliest part of the day, that is the loveliest on the ocean, 
just after the great red ball had suddenly dropped down 
below the horizon into the golden lake beneath, leaving 
in the sky the touch of heaven, the exquisite suggestive 
colorings of red and amber, that time of the day when 
one forgets realities of life for the real realities of the 
life beyond. 

That is how Loretta felt the evening she first saw 
the outlines of the goddess. The passengers had, as was 
their wont every evening, massed on the deck of the ship 
to watch the sunset, and had fallen into that quiet that 
seemed part of the scene, when one of the young men 
broke the sweet hush with a wild yell, 

“Liberty — there she is — hip! hip hurrah! tiger! hur- 
rah, hurrah, yeo!” And Loretta had another viewpoint 
of her countrymen — let loose. She felt like laughing and 
crying, in fact she did a little of both. In a short while 
she transferred her attention from the half crazy pass- 
engers to the near approach of her country. She watched 
with eagerness the dim outlines of the land developing 
into well defined shore curves — the lovely battery reveal- 
ing itself, and as twilight deepened and New York fiashed 
out its electric welcome in thousands and thousands of 
Edisonian stars, Loretta caught her breath with a quick 
gasp of delight. 


32 


“Her father in gay humor heard her aspirated pleas- 
ure and looking tenderly at her, patted her arm saying, 

‘ ‘ There you are Girlie ! The best city in the world ! ’ ’ 

The American Flag by this time was floating jauntily 
in the air, the band vociferating “Hail Columbia,” and 
the cheering passengers all together evoked Mr. Gibbons’ 
sturdiest enthusiasm and Loretta’s enthusiastic patriotism ; 
but as the steamer neared the wharf, the joy of the moment 
was changed by a delighted exclamation from Lawrence, 

“The boys!” 

Mr. Gibbons turned angrily, 

“What did you remark sir?” 

But Lawrence was acting like one insane and the 
question passed unanswered. 

A hoarse yell from the shore of “ C-O-L-U-M-B-I-A, ” 
burst from a dense crowd of young men on the wharf, and 
Lawrence danced a frantic jig. 

' ‘ Hello, Larry. Come off kid. Hip, hip, hurra, tiger ! 
Come on. Come off.” 

“See here, sir — you are not going with that crowd,” 
sternly demanded his father. 

Poor Larry’s face was crestfallen and Loretta’s heart 
thrilled with sympathy. 

“Father dear, look at them, they are so glad to see 
Lawrence, you won’t prevent him going to them?” 

“Loretta, you don’t understand, those are a lot of 
scamps.” Lawrence’s face burned red. 

“Father — you have respect for St. Ignatius College. 
There are five of St. Ignatius Seniors in that crowd and — ” 

“Yes, and I bet you a fiver,” interrupted his father, 
“that set won’t make a night of it; but the rest of the 
gang will.” 


33 


During this conversation as the boat jolted against 
the wharf, the crowd of young men grew noisier. 

“Come oft', Larry. Cut that out. Hurry up boy. 
Ah— Ouh!” 

“Let him go, father,’^ persisted Loretta, A disgusted 
shrug of consent, and with the swiftness of an arrow 
twanged from the bow, Lawrence sped down the gangway 
into the crazy crowd. 

He was greeted with an enthusiastic roar and im- 
mediately hoisted aloft on the shoulders of the two tallest 
and borne hastily away. 

Pleased in spite of himself at the popularity of his 
son, Mr. Gibbons growled, 

“A handsome dog and a selfish one too. Well girlie, 
you have seen the last of my brave Lawrence.^’ 

“The last?’’ 

“Yes, I’ll bet a twenty, you’ll not see him for a week, 
so we ’ll keep house alone. Now for home. ’ ’ 


34 


CHAPTER VII 

WHICH IS MISTRESS IN THE NEW YORK MANSION? 

“How are you, Robert?” grasping the extended hand 
of the delighted chaff eur. ‘ ‘ How is nurse and Mary, Lucy 
and all the girls, eh?” 

‘ ‘ Fine, Sir, fine and most crazy to see you ! ’ ’ 

“They are, are they? I wonder how they’ll feel when 
they see my daughter ? ’ ’ 

“My, but she is the perty young lady,” said Robert 
with the hearty familiarity of an old and esteemed servant. 

“And as good as she is pretty, Robert. Now old man, 
let her go, ’ ’ laughed her father slamming the door of the 
limousine. ’ ’ 

“Father, did you ask Robert about nurse?” ques- 
tioned Loretta. 

“Loretta, I intended many times during our trip to 
tell you about Nurse, Nelly Graham, but something inter- 
rupted me and so it went. Well, she is the woman who 
nursed your mother at the birth of Lawrence and she was 
with us in Europe when you were born. Your mother 
loved her and made her a kind of companion and when 
the nuns refused to allow Nurse to stay at the convent 
and to take care of you and Lawrence, her grief was so 
genuine that I promised her there and then that I pledged 
myself to see to her till her death. I took her home with 
me to New York where she continued to look after Law- 
rence till he went to school, indeed she has never ceased 
looking after him and I must say for the ungrateful cad, 
that he has shown gratitude to Nurse, in fact, I believe 
he loves her as much as he is capable of loving anyone. 
And you, Loretta, you be very kind to her, my darling, I 

35 


need not ask you. You see she is a kind of privileged per- 
son in our house, in fact she has virtually run my home 
for sixteen years, she it is who hires the girls, when she 
needs to hire any. Nelly is a kind of an Irish Napoleon 
and governs with a good hit of wisdom so our girls rarely 
leave us except to get married. Now when you reach the 
corner of 95th and Madison avenue, that ’s our corner, you 
are mistress of John Gibbons’ house, you understand, but 
don’t let Nurse feel it too bad.” 

“Father,” excitedly exclaimed Loretta, “not for one 
minute would I let Nurse give up her place. Let her go 
on just the same.” 

“Loretta, I want you to govern the house. Nurse has 
more experience than you, so make use of her knowledge 
for a time and then let her down easy. ’ ’ 

“Hello. Hello, glad to see us, eh? Well, well, nurse, 
just as blooming as ever, pity you are getting such white 
hair, you might be stepping off. Now, no tears. Damn it ! 
I won’t stand for it !” 

The limousine had stopped before a palatial residence 
and down the broad marble steps of the front entrance, 
the delighted domestics had rushed headlong, laughing 
and crying. In their joy of welcoming Mr. Gibbons, 
Loretta was left sitting unnoticed in the limousine, till a 
loud scream from Nurse on discovering her, caused a gen- 
eral distraction. 

“Glory be to God, is it herself come back? Oh my 
darling, is it my young mistress ? Thanks to God in heaven 
I can die happy.” The question of house governing was 
settled then and there, briefly and forever. Loretta, lost 
in the voluminous depths of Nurse ’s embrace, felt she had 
indeed found a loving mother. 

Mr. Gibbons openly wiped away his tears and then 
36 


springing up the steps stood at the open portal to welcome 
Loretta. 

“Now girlie, this is your home. Here Nurse, take her 
her upstairs. Yes, give her her mother’s sitting room. 
What? Lawrence? Of course he came but you can draw 
your own conclusions — the boys met him.” 

The nurse’s kindly face clouded, but forgetting in 
her new joy, her disappointment, taking Loretta’s hand 
in hers, she said, 

‘ ‘ Come dearie, I was not expecting such a grand hap- 
pening as your home coming. Praise be to God and the 
Blessed Mother,” stopping in their ascent to hug her 
again. “Come up now, see these are your father’s rooms 
and this room, you see it opens off his library, is your 
mother’s dressing room and all is just as she left it.” 

With a feeling of indescribable awe, Loretta tiptoed 
into the room. ’Twas pretty, but oldfashioned, near the 
handsome marble topped bureau stood a three-legged 
table and on the top of it was an open work basket, a 
shower of lace and ribbon flowing therefrom. 

“Nurse, darling, is that just as Mamma left it?” 

“That workbox was beside her bed when she died, 
and I boxed it up just as it was and brought it home. When 
we were going to Europe, we left here in such a hurry 
to catch the steamer, that that dress you see over that 
chair was left there ; as I said to Lucy when I locked the 
door, ‘Leave that room till I come back;’ I had a feeling 
that I would soon return, four weeks later I came back 
without your mother and finding her dress there, I kissed 
it and put it back. Don’t cry my child. See, we will hang 
the skirt up now. The room has the mistress back.” 

And so the new mistress came into her own. 


37 


CHAPTER VIII 

NEW DUTIES WITH NEW EXPERIENCES 

The next morning, after a long restful sleep, Loretta 
woke with a start to find herself in unrecognized sur- 
roundings, and with a vague feeling of new responsi- 
bilities, she jumped from bed. How beautiful the room 
was ! So different from the severe outlines of the convent 
dormitory. Oh, she must write and tell her darling nuns 
all about her new home. How quiet, too, it was, even the 
stillness, the city had not yet waked up, sent a chill of 
loneliness to her heart, and for the first time after her first 
great outburst of sorrow she felt really lonely. 

Here was her life, in a great big house, surrounded by 
servants, with only two associates of her own rank or 
life, her brother and father and each antagonistic to the 
other and she — ? Her life work was to remember “Duty 
was noble. 

“But Oh, my girl friends, what shall I do without 
you?” she sobbed, “never, never to see you again.” Hard- 
er and harder was the struggle. Down sank the gold- 
brown head, but before reaching the bed, its course was 
arrested and it was pillowed on the motherly breast of 
Nurse Nelly. 

‘ ‘ Asthore ! me darlin ’ is it crying you are, the first 
morning in your own home. What would he say if he 
heard of it?” 

“Nurse, you will never tell him,” gasped Loretta. 

“Deed no — if he waits for me to tell him things, 
he’ll wait a long time. Sure, there is Lawrence, if his 
father were to hear all his cranks, there ’d be no standing 

38 


the house with him. He’s awful hard on the young 
master.” 

“Nurse, tell me, what is the reason?” 

“Sorra one of me knows child, except that Master 
Lawrence spends an awful lot of money and why 
shouldn ’t he ? Sure himself has a great pile and who will 
he leave it to but ye two?” 

“An awful lot of money you say Nurse? Lawrence 
told me papa was stingy?” questioned Loretta. 

“Well Mr. Gibbons is and he isn’t. He’ll give me 
anything and more than I’ll need to run the house and 
sure now that you are in it, there’ll be lashins to spend — 
but when it comes to poor Lawrence its different; but 
dress yourself Allanna and I’ll show you Lawrence’s room. 
Your father said the room was good enough for a crowd of 
rowdies — Lawrence he does have an awful lot of young 
men in. No — he didn’t come last night and maybe it will 
be a few more nights before we see him. Yes, yes, dear, I 
know that is wrong and that’s just where him and your 
father falls out. But maybe Larry will act different since 
you are here. Mass did you say? God bless the child. Yes, 
just two blocks from here, but not this morning Allanna, I 
did not make preparations for going, sure I won’t let you 
go out alone. Yes, I go every morning and I offer up the 
Mass for the conversion of Larry and his father for — ” 
Nurse could say no more, being choked off by a hug from 
Loretta, who had been eagerly listening as she rapidly 
dressed. Her toilette completed and prayers said, Lo- 
retta accompanied Nurse to Larry’s rooms. In compari- 
son with the furnishings of the rest of the house the 
brother’s rooms were plain indeed. 

“Nurse, this must all be fixed up. Can we not get 
some new furniture?” 


39 


“Of course we can go down this very day and get it. 
Anything you say goes. But come now to breakfast.” 

Her father greeted her joyously. “Good! I never ex- 
pected to have a stunnin’ girl at the breakfast table. That’s 
one place your poor mother failed me. She was never 
strong and I was obliged to rise so early that she found it 
more than she could do. So I generally bolted my break- 
fast in solitary splendor. Is that what my girl is going to 
do, Eh ? ’ ’ Loretta lost in thought made a mental resolve 
that cost what it may he, would never again eat breakfast 
alone. “Eh! Loretta he asked. 

“No, father, I shall be with you every morning.” 

“Good!” The look of genuine pleasure made him 
young and handsome and Loretta’s first meal in her own 
home was a very happy one. After breakfast, a tour 
through the house, a visit to the kitchen, an introduction 
to a crowd of worshipful servants, then letters to the nuns 
and girls, made the morning pass quickly; and not until 
afternoon did Loretta find herself in a furnishing house. 
What a pleasure it was to buy for one you loved and 
when that which was purchased was to be a surprise ? 

“Nurse — see the dark red lounge, will it not look 
pretty in that little smoking room. You know it is so dark 
and cold looking. Yes, curtains please to match this 
lounge. What do you think Nurse, a red carpet?” 

“Anything, Allana, that pleases you. I was just 
thinking what I would do with the old furniture. There 
is a poor woman, a widow, who has had a heap of sick- 
ness, they’re all well now — but everything decent is 
gone — ” 

Loretta’s eyes sparkled with intelligence. “Oh, you 
are going to give Lawrence’s furniture to them, dear 
Nurse?” 


40 


“Just as you say child, if ye are willing.” 

“Nurse, as long as you live don’t you say anything 
like that — you are to do just as you please.” Deeply 
touched Nurse turned quickly away, not before Loretta 
had seen her eyes brimful of happy tears. 

At last the delightful afternoon came to an end. The 
next day, after early Mass, was devoted to the refurnish- 
ing of her brother’s room. The delightful rush of it, the 
exhiliration, the frightened enthusiasm, the possibility of 
Larry’s sudden return, all combined to make it the hap- 
piest of days. Loretta, the born housekeeper, was every 
where — pulling up carpets, hanging pictures, draping cur- 
tains ; and when everything was finished — what a picture 
of rosy comfort it all was. Oh, if Lawrence would only 
come, if she could be hidden somewhere when he came in, 
so as to see his look of delight; but no Lawrence came. 
On the third day her father was worried, “The young 
scamp ought to be licked. I was down at the club house, 
they claim there he left in company with two or three of 
his boon companions and hasn’t been seen since. He might 
have the decency to show up and give an account of him- 
self.” 

“Papa,” cried Loretta, her face paling at the 
thought, “he maybe sick.” 

‘ ‘ Sick, ’ ’ he growled, ‘ ‘ not a bit of it ; he is having a 
good time some place; but if he had the instincts of a 
gentleman he would send some word.” 

“Papa dear, try to find out the names of the young 
men with whom he was and then we’ll be able to find 
him.” 

“See here, Loretta, that scamp isn't worth looking 
up, but if you are going to lose any sleep over it I’ll see 
what 1 can do.” That evening he informed her the young 

41 


gentlemen in question had left Lawrence on the car for 
home. Loretta was sick with anxiety, but her father dis- 
missed the ugly subject with a shrug. 

On the morning of the fourth day a very ill looking 
Lawrence, accompanied by a large dark looking man con- 
siderably his senior, stumbled up the steps of his home, 
Loretta with widely dilated eyes met them at the front 
door. 

“Oh, Lawrence dear.” 

“Miss Gibbons, I believe,” bowed the stranger, “your 
brother has been stopping for the last two days at my 
boarding house, he has been very ill, but hoping from 
hour to hour to get over the attack, would not permit me 
to notify his family. Hold on Larry,” as Lawrence stag- 
gered as if he were going to faint. 

“Bring him up here if you please.” Up the stairs 
lurched the two. 

“Come sir,” hastily cried Loretta, throwing open the 
door of the room on which she had bestowed so much 
loving care, ‘ ‘ come in this room, oh, get him to bed. Nurse 
darling, he’s going to die.” Nurse who had just entered 
looking sharply at Lawrence, muttered to herself “the 
same ould story,” and aloud to the distracted girl, “Al- 
lanna, Larry will not die, here sir, please help me to get 
this boot off — now the other. Loretta darlint go down to 
Lucy for a hot water bag and tell her to fix a strong hot 
lemonade. Now, Larry, hold still till we get your duds 
off.” 

When Loretta returned with the hot water bag Larry 
was comfortably fixed in bed. Nurse bathing his head with 
Eau de Cologne, and the dark looking stranger was seated 
on the side of the bed gazing down on the sick man with 
a peculiar smile, half bantering, half sympathetic. 

42 


“Loretta, did I frighten you?” asked Lawrence. His 
voice was low and husky. 

“You certainly did Lawrence.” 

“Well, Sis, forgive me. Oh, Nurse I feel just horrid.” 

‘ ‘ I know it, I know it, Allanna ; there, there, try and 
go to sleep. Are you goin’ Mr. Silby?” 

“Yes I’d better take my departure before his father 
returns Nurse. You know Mr. Gibbons and I are not 
friends. ’ ’ 

At the sound of his father’s name Lawrence started 
up in fright. “Oh, don’t let him come in, don’t let father 
in Nurse.” 

“No, no child,” crooned the nurse. 

“Miss Gibbons, I am Mr. Sibley,” turning to Loretta, 
“a dear friend of your brother’s for years, I’m only five 
years older than he though I suppose I look ten years 
older. Your father for some reason or other has taken a 
dislike to me and I seldom come to this house. I must 
confess under the present circumstances I regret that I 
cannot come.” 

“Mr. Silby there must be some mistake, I am sure 
if you are a friend to Lawrence, you should be welcome 
here,” hastily cried Loretta. 

“You wish me to come,” asked Mr. Silby, a radiant 
smile transfiguring a somewhat plain sallow face, “then I 
shall do myself the honor, at some day not far distant,” 
and bowing low as before a queen, he backed out of the 
room 

“There goes a gintleman, every inch of him if he is 
poor,” said Nurse. 

“Is that the reason papa don’t like him,” eagerly 
questioned Loretta. 

“Sorra one of me knows,” grumbled Nurse, “like 
43 


as not it is. Whist ! is that himself?” listening to a distant 
footstep. 

“Nurse, Loretta, don’t let father in,” querously com- 
manded Lawrence. 

“Lawrence, dear, father is most anxious about you.” 

“Loretta,” interrupted Lawrence,” promise me you 
will not tell him I have come home, at least until I’m 
stronger. I simply couldn’t take his abuse in the condition 
I am now in. Promise,” he commanded. Disappointed, 
she knew not why, sad at heart, believing she was doing 
wrong, she gave the desired promise. Delighted at her 
compliance to his will, Lawrence heaved a sigh, turned his 
back to her and comfortably fixed himself for sleep. Lo- 
retta silently watched beside him. “Why did it hurt her 
so when Lawrence spoke of his father’s abuse? What a 
strange word from the lips of a son against a father, which 
was wrong? What was her duty? Should she have re- 
fused to give the promise, how could she truthfully keep 
it ? Oh, if Sister Ambrose were here, to tell her what to do. 
Duty, what was it? And the room, why he didn’t even 
look at it.” Engrossed in her perplexity, she did not 
notice that Nurse had darkened the room and had left 
her alone with Lawrence; she hardly realized two hours 
had passed till she heard. 

“Come Allanna, I’ll take care of him now, do you go 
down to your lunch, and your letters, there’s a whole pile 
for you. Don’t come back until you have finished readin’ 
them. Indeed if your father sees you lookin’ like that, 
why he’ll kill poor Lawrence.” 

“Oh, Nurse if papa asks if Lawrence has returned 
what will I say?” cried poor Loretta. 

“Say, say, why say nothing at all,” calmly replied 
Nurse. 


44 


“Nurse, how can I do that? Oh, what shall I do — why 
did I give that promise?” 

“Whist! you’ll waken him. See here, child, we must 
keep your father out of this room at least for tonight for 
Larry is liable, if he gets worked up, to be took down 
with fever.” 

Educated as she had been by her dear nuns, that hon- 
esty was above everything, Loretta felt thoroughly at 
sea in this, her first introduction to deceit. 

“Could I not tell father Larry has come home, at the 
same time ask him not to come up?” pleaded Loretta. 

“No, no, that would never do,” hastily answered 
Nurse. “Mr. Gibbons when he gets his head set will stop 
for nobody; when he asks about Larry just pretend you 
don’t hear, ask if he don’t want you to sing. Go down now 
child.” 

With a strange sinking of the heart Loretta left the 
sick room. Was Nurse right or wrong? Why did she 
have to keep her father in ignorance, when he, too, was 
anxious? But then if Lawrence took the fever. Her let- 
ters from her loved Convent home for a couple of happy 
hours put all perplexing thoughts at rest. With a lap 
full of these dear epistles, freighted with love and friend- 
ship Loretta actually forgot her brother till her father’s 
voice brought her quickly back to a disagreeable reality. 

“Hello! what’s the new occupation? Hey? What’s 
this crying Loretta?” asked he tenderly gathering her 
to his heart, regardless of an avalanche of letters falling 
to the ground. “Oh, papa dear,” she laughed, these are 
tears of joy, the dear girls wrote such lovely letters.” 

“They did, did they? pleased with the presents?” 

“Oh, you ought to hear what they say about you. 
Here’s Louise’s, no it’s Marguerite’s I want. Listen to 

45 


this, “Your father ought to be a ruling king, but he’s an 
uncrowned one;’ and here is Fanfan, ‘I knew the very- 
first time I saw his kingly face — ” 

“Ha! Ha!” laughed her father, evidently pleased, 
but not a little embarrassed. “Kingly mug would be 
better, there ’s no show for looks when you and Larry are 
around Confound that fellow, why doesn't he come home? 
I’m beginning to think he maybe sick. What are you 
hunting for child?” 

Loretta at the unexpected mention of her brother’s 
name felt all the blood in her body mount to her face, 
and in order to avoid the searching gaze of her father 
she suddenly stooped and fumbled, among the letters 
“There are some more that speak about you,” rapidly 
moving the letters, “in fact, they all thank you, I think 
this — ” 

“Oh, let it go. I didn’t do it for them, it was for 
you.” 

“May I not read it?” she timidly asked. 

“Fire away, you never asked me though why I came 
home so early?” 

“Is it early, papa?” 

“Humph! I suppose you haven’t even bestowed a 
thought on me, and here I’ve been working like a horse all 
the day so as to get off in time to have you titivate up for 
the Opera. Yes, young lady Grand Opera and Caruso at 
that. Now, if Larry were here he could go along too. Say 
what makes your face so red? Oh, I suppose stooping 
over. Let’s have the rest of those precious letters, but 
I draw the line at the compliments on my physiognomy; 
you know an old fellow can feel kind of awkward if he 
receives too many bouquets. ’ ’ Loretta, delighted to find a 
refuge from deceit in reading, read rapidly while her 

46 


father easily content at anything that gave her pleasure 
watched her ever varying expression with keen delight, 
forgetting in his study of her the import of the letters. 
A sudden question from her was often answered wide of 
the mark; hut its inadvertence passed unheeded by the 
anxious girl in constant dread of a direct inquiry. At 
length the important letters being read Loretta sought 
safety in retreat upstairs, her ostensible purpose being as 
she explained “to titivate.’’ A quick rush to her brother’s 
room found him quietly sleeping with Nurse on guard. 

“To the opry you say, thanks to the Saints, he’ll 
never think of Lawrence till morning. Lock the door? 
You may be sure I will. Go now and fix up and I’ll send 
Lucy to help you.” 

The opera was a world of harmonious beauty to Lo- 
retta, and her pleasure was increased by the knowledge 
that the stern man of business enjoyed it as keenly as she 
did. While there Loretta breathed easier, feeling certain 
that Lawrence would not be driven into a fever by the 
sudden appearance of his irate father. But affairs were 
nearly precipitated next morning. 

“Loretta, I’ll be hanged if I don’t think I’ll put the 
police on the trail of Lawrence. My God! child, have I 
frightened you, you are as white as a sheet?” 

“No, I’m well father, but I wouldn’t do that. Law- 
rence will come home,” she stammered. Her embarrass- 
ment did not escape his keen eye. 

“Do you know anything about him Loretta?” It had 
come, the dreadful question. What would you say? — if 
she answered yes, she’d be obliged to explain that her 
brother was in the house — if she denied she would have 
told her first untruth. She was saved either alternative by 
the entrance of a servant bearing a telegram. 

47 


“Shucks, but Jim’s in a hurry. Excuse me, dear 
heart, if I leave you to finish your breakfast, this must be 
seen to at once. Lucy tell Robert to get the auto. Good- 
bye darling, when Robert comes back from the office you 
and Nurse take an airing.” 

Indignant with herself for getting into such a tangled 
maze of perplexity Loretta went at once to Lawrence. 

“Well sister mine,” he called gaily, “Nurse informs 
me I’m able to get up.” 

“To get up so soon Lawrence,” exclaimed Loretta. 

“Why you seem to be sorry about it Loretta.” 

‘ ‘ I am sorry, Lawrence, I never was so sorry 
about anything in my life.” He stared at her in undis- 
guised amazement. 

“Sorry that I am able to get up,” he echoed. 

“Oh, no,” she laughed in perplexity, “not that, but 
I’m sorry that I had to deceive father.” 

“ ’Twill not be the first time he was deceived,” he 
coldly replied. 

“Lawrence,” she answered with dignity, “it will be 
the last as far as I am concerned.” 

“Oh, say, you don’t mean to give a fellow away, if 
the governor gets on to it that I have been two days in the 
house, and he didn’t know it; he’ll raise cane.” Loretta 
was shocked, what manner of man was this handsome 
brother of hers? He seemed destitute of the principles of 
honor as she held them. 

“What do you intend to do Lawrence?” she asked, 
in as cold a manner as one of her kindly nature could 
assume. He felt the change and shrewdly realizing this 
sister of his was a stronger mold than he, he understood 
he must not show himself too plainly. 

“Say, Loretta, you’ve experienced nothing from Dad 
48 


but glad words while I — well there’s no use of dwelling 
on me — I tell you I feel too shaky for an encounter with 
him. I shall dress this afternoon, go out and return this 
evening, and notify him IVe been sick. I’ll get it but 
not quite so hard as I would if I were to tell things as 
they were.” 

“Lawrence, brother dear, what is the use of this? It 
isn’t right — it isn’t truthful — the servants all know.” He 
laughed gaily, “To be sure they do. Catch them giving it 
away. No siree, they are loyal to the last one.” 

“Lawrence it isn’t noble,” she persisted. Like all 
undisciplined natures, Lawrence had in him a strong vein 
of obstinacy — he looked ugly. 

“See here, little girl, this is my affair, if you don’t 
want to help, don’t snitch on me. Snitch Is turning tattle 
tale.” Loretta gazed at him blankly and then burst into 
tears. For one brief moment Lawrence had the manhood 
to be ashamed of himself, but conquering his better im- 
pulse said; “Stop that Loretta, if you do much of that I’ll 
go away and stay for keeps.” 

Not understanding “keeps,” but fully realizing 
Larry was making some dreadful threat, Loretta promised 
she wouldn’t tell. 

True to his word, shortly after supper, Lawrence, 
accompanied by Mr. Sibley, returned to his father’s house. 
To Loretta’s surprise, not to speak of her brother’s blank 
astonishment, her father warmly greeted the two. 

“Been sick, Larry? Yes, you look it. Stopped at Mr. 
Sibley’s boarding house? Just send me the bill, Mr. Sib- 
ley. Nonsense, sir, I won’t stand for Larry’s spongeing 
on anyone. But son, you might have let your sister know 
about your sickness. She’s been worried to death. 
Thought you’d get well? Very likely, but I hope it will 

49 


be the last time you put us both on the anxious seat. Lo- 
retta, ring for refreshments. ^ ’ 

Poor Loretta. How she lived through that dreadful 
evening, she never knew. Every kind word of her father ’s 
was a stab to her heart. Every fresh equivocation on the 
part of Lawrence, added pain to her wounded honor. 


50 


CHAPTER IX 

LORETTA TOUCHES A NEW YORK SOCIETY 
WOMAN. 

The next few weeks for Loretta was shrouded in grief 
which numerous calls did not dispel, the hurt to her honor 
was so deep. One day being especially sad as the dinner 
hour approached, and with it, the coming of her father, 
she tried to change her mood with her dress. Deep 
natures, simple natures, when disillusioned learn quickly. 
As Loretta graced the dinner table, one would hardly 
credit that she was the convent child of a few weeks ago, 
— there was an added dignity, a shade of thought that 
belonged to one older in years than she. Her father no- 
ticed this with an uneasy qualm of conscience ; was it pos- 
sible what Mrs. Harcourt, “an old flame of his,” he had 
met that day, had suggested to him — 

“A girl of sixteen was too young to preside over a 
household.” 

Lawrence was absent for obvious reasons. Father and 
daughter were absorbed in thought, till Mr. Gibbons 
asked nervously, 

“Loretta, housekeeping doesn’t tire you does it?” 

“Oh, dear, no, father,” laughed she, “why do you 
ask?” 

“Well, I met Mrs. Harcourt today, an old friend of 
mine and of course we got to talking about you — she 
thinks I am not doing the straight thing to saddle you 
with a house. What do you think?” anxiously asked he. 

“I think, father,” answered Loretta decidedly, un- 
derstanding with a sweet intuition of love, that the 
thought worried her father, “that I shall not like Mrs. 

51 


Harconrt, if she suggests such things to you. Why I love 
housekeeping, father.” He heard her declaration with a 
sigh of content and then told her to be In readiness for 
a call soon from his old friend. 

Indeed Mrs. Harcourt came the next day. Loretta 
found her to be a typical New York society woman — 
fascinating, stylish, shrewd and worldly, to the charm 
of whose manner the unsophisticated convent girl suc- 
cumbed at once. 

‘ ‘ I told your father it was an injustice to you to have 
so young a girl keeping house for two gentlemen. You 
should be at school, child. You do not like the thought? I 
knew your mother, dear, beautiful as a dream; not un- 
like yourself. She was the rose, you, the bud. You will 
soon be faded if left to yourself. You cannot be much 
over sixteen. You must meet my Kate. She is just out, 
made her debut, and is such a charming girl. I want you 
to love each other.” 

Loretta thought if the daughter were like the mother 
that would not be a very hard task, still there was some- 
thing in the character of the elder woman that awakened 
in Loretta a feeling she could not define. Something that 
was akin to fear and yet not fear. Was it respect? Was 
it difference in their ages? Would she dominate her? 
Whatever it was Loretta was not destined to find out 
just then. 

The next day the daughter called — ’twas a case of 
mutual attraction. In every school mate Loretta had 
found a worshipping friend, whom she had loved in re- 
turn, but in this new life of hers, in this strange land of 
America, she was slow to form warm friendships for the 
New York girls, of so-called society, who had called on 
her tired her, and the convent graduates, at least, those 

52 


whom she had met on the steamer, shocked her. The Euro- 
pean convents do not veneer over rough surfaces, they take 
time to polish the interior, their graduates learn the princi- 
ple that the tinily educated are subordinate to authority ; 
and that idea is not assimilated in three or four years. 

Loretta, it is true, had left her convent without 
graduation, but nevertheless she had lived there for many 
years in an atmosphere of sweet deference to the opinion 
of others — till that atmosphere became a part of herself. 
Her father’s friends, she had found were, like himself, 
business men, educated on certain lines ; but not scholarly 
men. Their children, especially the girls, inheriting 
wealth, and with it a love of pleasure — thought little of 
scholarly lore or the higher things of life; but here was 
a young woman, Kate Harcourt, Loretta’s antipodes, in 
many respects, yet, a girl after her own heart. Indeed 
on both sides it was love at first sight. Kate was large, 
dark and plain looking, irregular features, larg mouth 
and nose, rather small dark eyes, but one forgot complex- 
ion or rather the want of it, forgot the formidable nose, 
in the wonderful intelligence that illuminated the face 
when interested. 

Her figure was fine and her bearing elegant, with a 
good bit of dash in it. Her voice when excited, a little 
bit sharp, strange to say, apart from the fact that her 
speaking voice was not pleasant, her voice tones when 
she sang were beautiful. Quick and witty in conversation, 
she was the supplement of Loretta. 

The young ladies spent one afternoon together and 
the close of the day saw a friendship cemented that was 
to last a lifetime. They were both literary in their bent, 
both loved music, although Loretta’s musical talent did 
not go beyond the ordinary, she had taste enough to ap- 

53 


preciate the gift in others ; both were womanly enough to 
enjoy housekeeping and both aspired to be noble. They 
formed many plans — they were to study together and as 
far as Kate’s social duties permitted, they were to be 
together. 

“You see, Loretta, as you have not made your bow to 
society, you’re not obliged to go to parties, but I per- 
force, must accept the many invitations that are show- 
ered on me. You have no idea how popular I am. Oh, 
no, it is not my personality — I am ugly, — ’tis so hard to 
dress me — but ma is one of the powers in New York. It 
would never do to slight her daughter. Rich ? Indeed no, 
we are not. ’Tis a hard struggle, often to keep up ap- 
pearance. Pa left us a small interest and occasionally ma 
dabbles in stocks and makes a big haul. Ma is a shrewd 
business woman, but back of us, is family, and rich tra- 
ditions, these two things count in New York. And then, 
too, ma has many influential relatives. If I had my way 
dearie, I would earn my own living, I’d make a splendid 
teacher.” 

“Why do you not do it?” eagerly asked Loretta. 

“Simply because that stubborn ma won’t give her 
consent to disgrace the family name,” laughed Kate. 

“Disgrace?” indignately repeated Loretta, “why at 
school the nuns taught us work was honorable, the re- 
ligious who washed the dishes was as noble as the Mother 
Superior. ’ ’ 

“Bless the dear little democrat, but it is amusing to 
hear the daughter of one of the richest men in New York, 
talking about washing dishes. Child, is that a man’s voice? 
It sounds like Mr. Gibbons.” 

“It is, and I’m not there to meet him. Pardon me 
Kate, ’ ’ and Loretta flew down the stairs. By the time the 

54 


greetings to her father were over and explanations given, 
Kate appeared robed in walking attire. 

“Father this is Miss Harcourt, Kate Harcourt. We Ve 
had such a delightful day.’’ 

“Glad to hear it, but surely the daughter of my old 
friend is not going to take flight the instant I make my 
appearance?” Kate laughingly explained ’twas a first 
call and Dame Etiquette would be scandalized if she 
stayed longer. 

“All right, let the old lady go to Halifax, but you 
stay for dinner. Miss Kate.” 

When Lawrence, w'ho was late, entered the room he 
saw a large looking lady talking with great animation 
to his father. Bowing courteously and murmuring some- 
thing about great pleasure, a somewhat disgusted young 
man took his place at the table. Loretta, eagerly watch- 
ing Lawrence, was disappointed, as she understood on the 
instant he did not warm to her new friend. 

Towards the close of the repast Mrs. Harcourt called 
for her daughter, for one brief second Kate looked 
slightly annoyed. Hers was too strong a personality to 
fear anyone, even her dominant mother, but her high 
sense of duty made her bow obedience to the former’s 
desires; and if one thing tried Mrs. Harcourt more than 
another, it was a violation of the little proprieties of social 
life. Kate knew in prolonging a first call into an after- 
noon and dinner, she was breaking one of the most im- 
portant social codes. 

“Now, Mr. Gibbons, I’m in for it with ma and you 
are the guilty one,” laughed Kate as the maid informed 
them Mrs. Harcourt was waiting for her. 

“I surely am. Miss Kate. But remain here until I 
explain to your mother. ’ ’ What arguments he brought to 

55 


bear on Mrs. Harcourt he did not tell, but he must have 
convinced her that social etiquette was not grossly abused, 
as in a few moments he triumphantly entered the room 
with her on his arm. Sinking gracefully into the seat on 
Mr. Gibbons’ right, Mrs. Harcourt said, 

‘ ‘ Really Kate, if Mrs. Grundy ever gets wind of this 
we will never hear the end of it. You break her most 
important decree by staying half a day on the first call — ” 

‘ ‘ And you smash all of them by coming in to dinner, ’ ’ 
laughed Kate. If Lawrence had not been interested in 
the daughter he seemed to be intensely so in the mother, 
and vied with his father in paying her every attention. 
The latter called her Kitty, and she responded by giving 
him his Christian name of Gerald. 

“Really, Gerald, you ought to be ashamed to have 
forced me to come down, but you were always the domi- 
neering autocrat,” laughed Mrs. Harcourt. 

“Great Scott! listen to that,” ejaculated Mr. Gibbons. 
“Domineering, why that woman, children, gave me the 
mitten. Let me see how long — eh 1 what” he asked as Mrs. 
Harcourt in pretended dismay laid a beautiful hand on 
his arm. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Gerald, in mercy don ’t say how many years ago, 
spare me.” 

‘ ‘ Why it was only seventeen years ago. ’ ’ he said gal- 
lantly unmindful of the merry laughter that followed, in- 
creased by Lawrence declaring his father was trying to 
become a bigamist as his mother was living then. 

“Yes, the dear, she Was, how I loved your mother, 
Lawrence,” said Mrs. Harcourt, turning to the young 
man with a look so sweetly sympathetic that, as he told 
Loretta on their departure, he fell straight in love with 
her. 


56 


“I don’t think the mother half so lovely as the 
daughter, Lawrence. ’ ’ 

^‘Shucks! — that yellow-faced big giant of a woman? 
Why, her nose is Caesarian in its contour.” If Lawrence 
lacked reverence for women he had been spoiled by women 
themselves, young and old had knelt at the shrine of his 
beauty. His remark jarred on Loretta and she said some- 
what sharply for her, 

‘ ‘ Lawrence, Kate is a lady and my friend, and I think 
she has a wonderful beauty of expression.” 

“All right. Sis, she may be your beauty, but she’s 
not for mine. ” 


57 


CHAPTER X 

THE STORM BREAKS 

This introduction of the Harcourt family into the 
intimacy of her home life, together with an occasionl 
visit from Mr. Silby and the young people of their set, 
made Loretta, for the few short weeks that followed 
Lawrence’s fit of sickness, almost forget the unpleasant 
episode, almost forget that she had unconsciously de- 
ceived her father. Kate too, in spite of all Mrs. Grundy’s 
precepts about mere acquaintances, found a daily pre- 
text for getting in touch with Loretta. Mr. Gibbons, 
busy with some financial tangle, saw little of his daugh- 
ter in the day, though he made it a point to give her a 
part of every evening. It seemed to her that his kindness 
to her increased with each succeeding night, and that 
toward Lawrence his manner was more mellow. 

One evening it happened, that Loretta was sitting 
alone with her father when, taking advantage of that 
opportune chance, he told her that he had scored a 
financial victory. 

‘‘You see child, you grow more and more like your 
mother, and it seems only natural that I should talk busi- 
ness to you. Why bless your soul! your mother was as 
big a business man as myself, indeed, in some things she 
was keener than I. Now, she often told me that Larry 
would be no good in business, but that he would do first 
rate at art. I have neglected him there. Indeed, Loretta, 
I have been thinking I might have been kinder to him. 
I have let him go on his own responsibility and you see the 
result, you get after him child, if his mother had lived 

58 


Larry would have been different; you must be a mother 
to him.” 

“Be a mother to him,” she thought, what had she 
been during these weeks; she’d been judging him in her 
heart, and he knew and resented. Quite a coolness had 
sprung up between them — this “be a mother” to him 
awakened new thoughts. But the best intentions of 
father and sister towards Lawrence, were to be put to a 
severe test. One evening Mr. Gibbons returned home 
looking grey and stern, some bird of ill omen had revealed 
to him that his graceless son had deceived him as to his 
place of abode during his sickness, and had spent two 
days of that same sickness in his own house. The deceit 
of Lawrence did not worry her father half so much as the 
suspicion that Loretta had shielded her brother. 

As luck would have it the two were in the parlor 
when Mr. Gibbons entered, Loretta sprang joyously for- 
ward, but was chilled to the heart when her father failed 
to return her kiss. 

“Sit down Loretta, I’ve something to clear this in- 
stant. Lawrence, is it true that you were sick two days 
in this house and kept it from me?” Lawrence turned 
so pale Loretta in spite of herself felt sorry for him. 

“Answer me sir.” 

“ It is true I was two days sick in this house and as for 
keeping it from you,” Lawrence spoke very slowly, as 
though he were thinking deeply; his father interrupted 
him impatiently. 

“Loretta did you know your brother was sick two 
days in this house ? ’ ’ 

“Yes father.” 

“And you deceived me for him?” but turning quickly 
to Lawrence as if to strike him, “you cur you made her 

59 


do it.” Lawrence’s look of pathetic entreaty brought 
back to Loretta her father’s counsel “Be a mother to 
him.” Throwing a protecting arm around her brother, 
she said sweetly — 

“Father, I did not intend to deceive you as I did, 
Lawrence did not make me, no one but myself could make 
me do wrong.” Her father wounded to the quick hastily 
left the room and they soon heard his heavy footsteps in 
his own room. 

“Loretta, you stood by me like a man,” said Law- 
rence. 

“Like a man,” she echoed, “I wanted to stand by 
you like a mother — like our own mother would have 
done,” In spite of himself Lawrence was touched. 

“You have acted like a mother, dear,” he said so 
tenderly, as almost to shake her resolution to be honest 
with him. 

“But Lawrence, I want you to understand I don’t 
approve of deceit ; I believed it first, and I believe it more 
now, we should have told father exactly how things stood. 
He was ready to be kind to you, he told me so ; now, see 
what we have done. I shall always stand by you Lawrence 
but not by deceiving, do you understand, brother?” For 
a brief moment Lawrence was animated by an intense de- 
sire to be better, the desire passed and the predominant 
feeling was one of discomfort, his beautiful sister thought 
him deceitful — she thought herself better than he — what 
a prig she was. 

“Look here Sis, you’re too awfully pious, your con- 
vent training has been all wrong. You are in the world 
and you must do as the world does, why there isn’t one 
fellow in a hundred that tells his father things just 

60 


straight as they are — dad didn’t; I could bet my bottom 
dollar on it. No sir. You didn’t take up Ethics?” 

“No, Lawrence, I was not in the graduating class.” 

“Of course you weren’t, that accounts for it. Now 
Moral Philosophy tells us that the truth is not to be told 
at all times.” A horrified expression from Loretta made 
him hurry in explanation. “Never hear about mental 
reservation? Thought not; there are lots of things that 
are done in polite society that your good nuns would call 
deceitful. If a lady doesn’t want to receive a visitor, 
she directs her servant to say ‘not at home,’ when in 
reality she is at home, the visitor knows that for a fact, 
the lady is in the house; and yet ‘not at home’ is not 
looked upon as an untruth. Now, I didn’t tell an untruth, 
when I did not choose to inform dad I was in the house. ’ ’ 

Loretta was in a puzzle, “It was not right, Lawrence, 
to keep it from him.” 

“Loretta, it’s not a question of right, it is a question 
of if it was an untruth.” 

“No, it was not exactly.” 

‘ ‘ That ’s it, you acknowledge it was not an untruth, ’ ’ 
he exclaimed triumphantly. 

‘ ‘ Lawrence, I am only a girl, I cannot argue with you ; 
I do not know moral philosophy, I did study mental 
philosophy, we were to take up the other next year. But 
of this I am morally certain, you and I did wrong, don’t 
let us argue about it, let us love each other, dear, and help 
each other heavenward ; ’ ’ she said and left the room. 

“Gee!” he aspirated, “she took me off my feet, 
wished she wasn’t so good, ’tis hard to keep up to her 
standard.” 


61 


CHAPTER XI 

A HEART TO HEART TALK 

Loretta went to her room, and stood hesitatingly at 
her father’s door; what made him so still, was he in bed, 
had he gone out? Not able to bear the pain of uncertainty, 
she timidly knocked, and not sure as to whether she had 
received a response or not, she pushed the door open 
and entered. Under the astral lamp on the desk, her 
father had thrown himself, his head on his extended 
arms; shocked by the suggestion of extreme grief, Lo- 
retta stood irresolute for a brief moment, then yielding to 
an overwhelming feeling of pity darted forward throwing 
her arms around him, kissed his head. When she suc- 
ceeded in making him look up, she was shocked by his 
sorrow. 

“Papa darling, why do you grieve so? I did not mean 
to deceive you — I wanted to keep peace between you — ” 

“Loretta child, I understand — he is young and 
naturally you love him more than you do me. I could 
stand that; I can’t stand, that he influences you to do 
wrong.” 

“Father, listen to me, I love my brother, but papa, 
I love you for yourself and mamma.” A look of in- 
credulity — then with a dazzling smile of comprehension 
he gathered the gold-brown head to his heart. 

“You little woman you, but how could you do it?” 

“It was this way, dear, Lawrence was sick and weak 
and he feared to meet you when he was that way, and — 

He frowned — “Dont, dear papa.” 

62 


“But why does he fear me, why is my only son such 
a coward? Oh, if Roland had lived/’ 

“Roland,” she echoed. 

“Yes, child he would be twenty-one had he lived, and 
there was no coward in him.” 

“Papa please forgive me if I say something.” 

“Say anything you please Loretta, but for God‘s 
sake don’t deceive me.” 

“Never again my darling papa. This is what I would 
suggest, perhaps if you were as kind to him as you are 
to me — 

“Great Scott! how could I?” he pettishly asked. 

“Yes, you could. Promise me when you meet him 
at breakfast tomorrow you will not refer to anything 
that has passed — promise,” she persisted. 

“All right, little girl, I’ll be good. Look, dear,” 
opening a drawer of his desk and taking out a beautiful 
miniature, “this was your mother when I married her, 
she was darker than you, but you can see your features 
are the same.” And so in loving familiar converse the 
father and daughter drew closer to each other. The 
loud peal of the hall clock warned them it was midnight. 

“Dear, dear, this will never do young lady, you will 
lose your roses and I my worm. You know the old adage, 
‘the early bird catches the worm.’ A business man who 
is not an early riser is generally a failure. Don’t you at- 
tempt to get up for my breakfast.” 

“Indeed I will,” she said archly, “you promised me 
to be good. Happy dreams.” She tripped across the 
hall into Lawrence’s room. He was restless in his sleep, 
his right arm thrown over the counterpane lay with his 
firm white hand tightly clasped. He was muttering to 
himself, bending down she caught — “and she thinks I 

63 


lied/’ A deep flush suffused her lovely face — “Poor fel- 
low, I have caused pain to two that I love so” — and 
kneeling she lightly kissed his beautiful womanish fore- 
head. Light as the kiss was it wakened him. He stared 
confusedly at her and then laughed. 

“Oh, it’s you. Sis! I dreamt someone kissed me.” 

“I did, Lawrence.” 

“You did? “Ha! ha! want to heal my wounded 
feelings did you. Want to make reparation.” 

“Lawrence,” said she decidedly, “the only repara- 
tion I have to make is to father. Now, good night.” 

“Ah, gee!” he grumbled disgustedly, turning his 
face to the wall. 

The next morning, true to his promise, Mr. Gibbons 
was good, so good and amiable in his manner that Law- 
rence for the flrst time in many a long day was able to 
carry himself gracefully before his father, and this of 
course delighted Loretta; by the end of the repast the 
father had arranged a meeting with his son at the studio 
of a celebrated artist preparatory to Lawrence’s taking 
up the profession of painting. 

That evening she saw a new phase in her brother’s 
character, he reached home before his father and was in 
the wildest spirits. 

“Say, Sis — I tell you dad can do a handsome thing 
when he wants to. You should have heard him talk to 
old Gustave. Yes, Gustave Dorelle, that’s the artist. Why 
the old fellow just gaped at him, I believe in my heart he 
thinks he had a visit from Croesus or Midas, you remem- 
ber those chaps in your ancient History don’t you?” 

“Yes, what did father say?” 

“Say, what didn’t he say? I had genius, my mother 
said I had, and he believed it. Told the artist I was as 


G4 


good looking as Apollo on a bust. IVe often been on the 
latter, but my conceit never went so far as Apollo.” 

‘‘What did the artist say?” asked Loretta, delighted 
at the possibility of the father and son becoming friends. 

“Oh, he acted as loony as most of his class do, ran 
his hand over his head and declared something in broken 
English of my being a direct descendant of the fellow on 
the bust. But say, Loretta, honest Injun! I believe I’ll 
make an artist ; when I showed the old Prof, a sketch of 
the Hudson, he actually smiled and said it had color. 
Oh, gee 1 ’ ’to Loretta ’s amused consternation he turned an 
elegant hand spring, coming safely up on two feet, not 
before the entrance of Mr. Sibley, who was standing at 
the open door in evident enjoyment of the scene. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Sib, howdy old man, take a spring, ’ ’ and suiting 
the action to the word Lawrence gave another exhibit, 
not quite so successfully as the first, as he knocked down 
a small table before alighting on his feet. 

“Thank you, Larry, I’m not accustomed to distin- 
guish my entrance into the presence of a lady by any such 
an outward demonstration.” 

“Oh, you’re not,” remarked Lawrence, “no, because 
you can’t, you’d get all tangled up in your legs, that’s 
what. Huroo,” and Lawrence was about to give anothet* 
illustration of athletic ability when Mr. Sibley gripped him 
till he howled. 

“Cease! oh thou crazy enthusiast, and remember the 
presence of your sister.” 

“Say, she’s a stunner, isn’t she Leo, old boy?” asked 
the irrepressible Lawrence. 

“Define your meaning of stunner.” 

“Here you go, you old cut and dried — definitions 
65 


every time, I believe you haven’t the soul of a turnip. You 
know well what a stunner is. ’ ’ 

“I know when I’m dealing with a stunning tumbler. 
Do you do those stunts in that magnificent room of yours ? 
Bye the bye, what’s happened to that same room?” Lo- 
retta could not have told why she was pleased that Mr. 
Sibley did not speak of her beauty. 

“That’s true Leo, that room has been transformed, 
and she did that. Say, come on up and lets have a game 
of cards. We’ve an hour before dinner. 

“I’ll go up, Larry, but not for cards, a game of 
chess.” 

“No sir, not for mine. I’ve worked, son, today, I’ve 
rubbed paints in and out the whole mortal day, now I’m 
in for enjoyment, hence I say cards.” 

“And I positively decline.” 

“Too much work for you, Leo?” asked Lawrence 
with a shrewd look at his companion, the latter seeming 
strangely embarassed, turned abruptly, and said shortly — 

“If you’re going upstairs, Larry, come on.” 

Loretta heard her brother in his ascent loudly ex- 
patiating on the beauties of his room. Pleased with this 
indirect mode of showing his gratitude, Loretta stood ab- 
sorbed in thought. Finally after settling some knotty 
problem in her mind, she called Nurse and told her to see 
that there was an extra plate laid on the dinner table, as 
she was going out for a short time. 


66 


CHAPTER XII 

LOOKING FOR A COUNSELLOR 

Like her father in that when she made up her mind, 
she never hesitated, she walked directly to the Jesuit 
College, and finding the hall door ajar, pushed it in and 
entered the wide vestibule. She stood there waiting, till 
a tall austere old Jesuit passing from one parlor to an- 
other, seeing the young girl, approached her with a grave 
“Do you wish some one?” The dark face when he spoke 
lost some of its stern lines and his dark-brown eyes were 
kind. 

“Yes, Father, I wish to speak to some one — I want 
advice.” 

‘ ‘ Ah ! you want advice — I shall call Father Andrews. ’ ’ 

“Pardon Father — could not you do as well?” 

He smiled — how very beautiful his smile was and how 
very fieeting, he stood before her, silent, dark, stern, a 
grand picture of strength physical and spiritual, then with 
a bow of unconscious grace said — 

“As you like Miss ” 

“Miss Gibbons, or Loretta if you will, I am only a 
girl, ’ ’ she extended her hand which he took in a firm grasp 
and then led her into a small parlor. 

“Well now Miss — Loretta, since you so wish it; 
what is the nature of the advice needed?” 

She hesitated — “Well, Father, if you could get me 
a teacher — to teach me Moral Philosophy?” The shadow 
of a smile flitted over his most expressive face. 

“Moral Philosophy?” he echoed, “a rather heavy 
study for a young lady.” 


67 


‘‘Yes, Father, I need it, I need it to know my duties/’ 

How young and childlike she looked, yet how woman- 
ly and decided. 

“Duties as to matrimony,” he suggested. Without a 
blush she dismissed that subject and soon, not exactly 
knowing how it was done, she found herself talking to 
Father Dusette as though she had known him all her life. 
He knew her brother, knew him to be wild and ungovern- 
able, knew him to be expelled from college ; and told 
her all this gently and kindly. Told it to her because if 
she were to be a mother to him, it was well for her to 
know him as he was. Before the eventful interview ended, 
Loretta knew if she had lost a wise counsellor in 
Sister Ambrose, she had found another in Father Dusette. 
He would procure a teacher for her, one of their gradu- 
ates — a middle aged man who needed the money and 
he. Father Dusette, would pray for the success of her 
mission — the conversion of her father and brother. And 
so with a light heart Loretta bade him good bye. But 
before going home she paid a visit to the Church. Absorbed 
in prayer and retrospection, the time flew and not till the 
sexton in the dim twilight of the Sanctuary, half stumbled 
over her, did she realize how late was the hour. Then 
it flashed across her. Ailing her with consternation — she 
was late for dinner. As luck would have it, ’twas im- 
possible for her to And a cab, and hurry as she would, 
the dessert was on the table before dressed in her walking 
attire, she entered the dining room. 

Three gloomy men sat toying with their sweetmeats, 
each feeling in some undeflnable way that he was re- 
sponsible for the absence of the hostess. 

“Queer she should take this way to punish a fellow” 
— thought Lawrence bitterly. 


“Perhaps she objects to me. She did not invite me,” 
thought Mr. Sibley. 

‘ ' Getting tired of me, ’ ’ — pathetically mused the fath- 
er. No one gave voice to his thought; each outwardly 
acted the gentleman, but very stiff grave gentlemen, when 
the sudden appearance of their girlish hostess brought all 
three to their feet. 

“Well, well child, where have you been?” eagerly 
cried her father. “No, no, never mind your hat, sit right 
down as you are. Pardon you, you say? Of course I’ll 
pardon you ; but never let it happen again, we three were 
about to do something desperate. Eh! Mr. Sibley?” 

“I don’t know about you, Mr. Gibbons, but I re- 
member Miss Gibbons had not endorsed Lawrence’s in- 
vitation to dinner and I ” 

‘ ‘ Mr. Sibley, ’ ’ exclaimed Loretta, ‘ ‘ I thought I made 
you understand, endorsements were unnecessary. Law- 
rence ’s invitation was all that was needed. But since you 
have been worrying about it, I intended to send up an 
invitation from myself, but in getting ready to go out 
neglected it. Hungry? Of course I am. But you have all 
finished?” 

“Not by a long shot. Lucy bring in some fresh plates. 
We’re going to have dinner now,” gaily cried Lawrence. 

Released from their unpleasant tension of doubt the 
three tried to vie with one another, and Loretta laughed 
■gaily at their sallies, but the soft quick touch of Nurse, her 
whispered message into Loretta’s ear put an end to pleas- 
ure and brought the latter to her feet. 

“What’s up now?” pettishly demanded her father. 
“Nurse will not another time do? Loretta hasn’t finished 
her dinner.” 


69 


‘‘Yes, dear papa, I have finished. You have your 
smoke and I will meet you in the parlor, ' ’ replied Loretta 
hastily following Nurse into the hall. 


70 


CHAPTER XIII 

LAWRENCE SEEMS TO LACK PRINCIPLE. 

“Well, Nurse, what dreadful thing is itT’ 

‘ ‘ There ’s a man upstairs who will not leave this house 
till his bill of fifty dollars be paid,’' solemnly explained 
Nurse. 

“Oh, Nurse, that is all right, I’ll ask Papa,” and 
Loretta turned to re-enter the dining room, but Nurse in 
consternation arrested her saying, 

“For God’s sake listen, Loretta, this is Lawrence’s 
bill, and the fat would be in the fire, if you were to ask 
your father to pay it now just as they are beginning to 
be friends.” Loretta stood still in uncertainty — “but 
Nurse if we explain — ” 

“I tell you you can’t explain, the bill is money lost 
at billiards and your brother has refused to pay but if the 
thing comes to your father’s ears, he’ll be tearing. He 
looks upon such things as disgraceful.” 

“And so they are.” Loretta’s face was stern. “But 
Nurse, I haven’t the money. You — ” 

“I haven’t a cent. I paid the last I had out this 
morning. Look here, haven’t you a bracelet or a neck- 
lace?” 

“Bracelet or necklace?” wounderingly repeated Lo- 
retta, “of course I have; with mamma’s I have many.” 

“No, no, none of your mamma’s, one of your own. 
Give it to me and I’ll tell him to take that for the money, 
hurry dear.” 

“Nurse, that doesn’t seem right, I don’t like it,” 
hesitated Loretta. 


71 


“Well in God’s name, what will you do? Go in and 
tell Mr. Gibbons and have him get in a rage with Law- 
rence?” 

“Can he not wait until tomorrow?” cried Loretta 
in desperation. 

“No, I tell you, he won’t leave the house. Go up, dear, 
and get it,” coaxed Nurse. 

With a sad heart Loretta got the bracelet and gave 
it to Nurse in payment of the debt ; with a sadder heart 
she entered the parlor. Her father greeted her entrance 
with a questioning look, determined not to cause him 
anxiety, she stooped over him and said — 

“I’ll tell you all about it before bed time.” He was 
satisfied — but by a strange arrangement of fate a gentle- 
man called on important business, a few minutes after, 
had a private interview with her father, and in less than 
an hour Mr. Gibbons, accompanied by his friend, left the 
house for a week’s absence. Loretta breathed freer after 
his departure; ’twas a respite, and in the meantime she 
might see Father Dusette. 

But before calling on him she told Lawrence what 
she did. Her brother waa very angry. 

‘ ‘ Great Scott ! what did you pay it for ? The cur ! I 
wouldn’t give Jim Reynolds one cent if I were rolling 
in wealth.” 

“Lawrence, didn’t you owe it to him?” 

“Owe the devil! No I didn’t.” 

“You did not,” she exclaimed in astonishment, “why 
how could he send a man for it?” 

“Oh, he claims I did,” pettishly answered Lawrence. 

Her brother had some queer modes of reasoning, but 
determined to understand the facts as they stood, Loretta 
said with great dignity. 


72 


‘ ‘ Lawrence, I paid that bill and I wish you to tell me, 
why this Reynolds thought you owed it to him.” 

‘‘Well we played a game and bet twenty-five on it, 
and I lost, that was honest — then we played another game 
and he lost — he said he didn’t; but he lied and — and 
Sib—” 

“Was Mr. Sibley there?” she questioned. 

Lawrence looked embarrassed. 

“Yes — he was there.” 

“What did he think?” 

“ Oh ! the muff: — he was watching the first part of the 
game and when it came to the last he wasn’t there.” 

“He had gone then,” she insisted. 

‘ ‘ Oh no, — he was there — but his mind was some place 
else because when I got mad and told Jim I’d see him in 

— ^ I beg pardon, an uncomfortably hot place, before 

I’d pay him a cent ” 

“Yes?” she gently questioned. 

“Well, old Sib steps up and says Jim didn’t cheat.” 

“If Mr. Sibley said so it must be true.” 

He looked keenly at her. ’“For the short time you 
know him, you seem to think a heap of him.” 

“I believe him to be an honest man,” she quietly 
asserted. He laughed. 

“And so do I. All the same he didn’t know about 
that game; and I would not have given Jim one red cent. 
The damned cur sending to the house for it.” He stood 
with his hands in his pockets and whistled. 

“Lawrence, if I had not paid it, Father would have 
known.” 

He wheeled around. ‘ ‘ Gee, it would have been all up 
with me — ’twas handsome of you Sis.” 

73 


How sweet was his praise, this degenerate brother 
of hers. 

“But, Lawrence, Father is going to know about it.^^ 

“Going to snitch, eh?” he asked disgustedly. Her 
cheeks burned, how insolent he could be, this spoiled son 
of fortune. 

“Call it what you like, Lawrence, I promised father 
I would never keep anything from him again. I will tell 
him this.” 

“Oh, hell!” he growled and turning on his heel left 
the room. His manner, his words all grated on her sense 
of right, of courtesy, of honor, and for the first time in 
her life, she shed the tears that women in sorrow let fall. 
When her agony had ceased her first impulse was to write 
it all to Sister Ambrose. No, she could not do it, written 
words are so cold and severe, the tone of voice may often 
palliate the greatest sin and sister would understand 
could she speak to her — it would not do to write it. 
Father Dusette? Yes, that was the one, stopping long 
enough to bathe her swollen lids, she repaired to the 
College. Carefully shielding her brother’s character as 
much as she could consistently do with truth, she laid 
the facts before the priest. 

“Well, my child, ’tis a difficult thing to advise on — if 
you do not handle Lawrence carefully, your influence for 
good will be as naught. He is high strung — has been 
let run wild ; with the best intentions in the world. Nurse 
has helped to spoil him — and — why child how is this? 
I thought you a brave little woman. Come, come, this will 
never do. You are keeping something from me. What 
is it child? 

‘ ‘ Father I hate to say it — but Lawrence seems not to 
be — honest,” she sobbed. 


74 


A look of intense sympathy swept across his stern 
face. 

“That need not shock you my child; some otherwise 
good persons are deficient in the strict sense of honor, 
sometimes ’tis in the make up of a man, occasionally his 
environments develop it, and again ’tis a lack of char- 
acter. A man is only responsible for that of which he is 
conscious. In my dealings with your brother, I found him 
lacking in the principle of honor.” 

“How shocking,” gasped Loretta. “If he is not con- 
scious of wrong doing, how can we work with him 
Father?” 

“That’s just it. I am not certain yet if the deficit is 
in himself or his education. Of course, if the latter, we 
can easily effect a cure ; if the former, ’ ’ he shook his head 
while Loretta, pale with agony, gasped despairingly at 
him. 

‘Courage my child. God expects great things of you. 
Your brother is not so great a sinner as St. Augustine, 
who at one time seemed lost to every sense of right, and 
prayer converted him. Prayer — that is the secret” — ^he 
stood erect, his noble head thrown back, his face glorious 
in its transfiguration of Faith. His enthusiasm took hold 
of Loi^etta. 

“Father, if it is prayer — I shall pray my knees off.” 

Brought back to earth he gently smiled. “Softly, 
softly, little enthusiast. There are different kinds of 
prayers, the prayer of self sacrifice, every action of the 
day, every heart beat offered for the one great object. 
If I understand you rightly — ^you have not many tempta- 
tions — but this one, is something peculiar to untried 
woman — the temptation to discouragement. No matter 
how dark things may look, keep up your courage.” 

75 


“Thank you, Father,” she said gratefully, “and 
about that debt, shall I tell my father?” 

He thought a moment and then said — “Yes, it is 
best to be open and above board in all your dealings with 
your father. But take an opportune moment — when he is 
happy and alone with you — get him to promise not to 
refer to it when speaking to Lawrence.” 

The opportune moment did not present itself for a 
long time, the man of business for a time absorbed the 
father, he seemed to have no time for anything, meals 
were bolted without conversation, the evenings spent at 
home were given to the private secretary and great 
bundles of papers — to Loretta he was kind, but in such a 
hurry that there was no opportunity of a private talk 
with him. 

One morning as she helped him into his overcoat, he 
found time to grumble — “Now if Lawrence were worth 
his salt, he could help me in this pinch and I wouldn’t be 
driven like a pack horse. Why God bless me, Loretta, I 
haven’t had breathing space to ask you how you were. 
After tomorrow, we’ll see more of each other. What are 
you doing with yourself?” 

‘ ' Papa — I am studying with a teacher, ’ ’ she said hur- 
riedly. 

“Studying with a teacher!” He had been putting 
on his hat at the hall looking-glass and glanced over his 
shoulder at her in blank amazement. “What study and 
what teacher?” he queeried. 

“Mr. Clark, Father Dusette got him for me — he is 
teaching me Moral Philosophy.” 

He whistled softly, “Moral Philosophy. Anything 
you please little girl, but don’t get too smart for your 
old dad.” 


76 


“I could never be so smart as you are, papa,’' she 
answered with naivete. Pleased at her honest apprecia- 
tion, he raised his hat and kissing her fondly said, 
“You’re the best little woman in New York.” 


77 


I 


CHAPTER XIV 

KATE THKOWS A BOMB 

A couple of months passeed and the intimacy of the 
families waxed apace. Anyone with the slightest con- 
ception of character could see that the father and son 
paid great attention to Mrs. Harcourt, although the son 
seemed to be dead in earnest ; anybody, save Loretta, could 
understand that the widow favored the father. He, to do 
him justice, had not seen through the matrimonial scheme, 
but Kate sincerely loving Loretta was deeply pained, the 
convent girl was happy, however, in her blissful uncon- 
sciousness and the event of the bracelet episode was nearly 
forgotten when one of the wonderful happenings of the 
unexpected, brought the affair to light. Kate, owing to 
pressure of social duties, had neglected making her daily 
visits and Mr. Gibbons, who by this time had conceived 
quite an affection for her, was grumbling about her non- 
appearance, when the young lady in question joyously 
entered. 

‘‘How are you alU” she gaily asked. It seems an 
age since I saw you, but today after my beauty sleep I 
determined to come.” Sitting down and clasping her 
beautiful hands together on her knees, leaning forward 
and speaking confidentially to her host, “Is not society 
tiresome ? Mr. Gibbons, if you had your most ardent de- 
sire — would it not be to cut free from these stupid tradi- 
tions and spend your life right in the home circle?” 

“Bight you are. Miss Kate, there’s no place like home, 
especially when home is graced by two such stunning 
girls as you and Loretta.” 


78 


Kate laughed. ‘ ‘ Is not he a dear, Loretta ? I am sure 
when he was the age of your brother he must have been a 
gallant knight.’’ 

‘‘Are you suggesting young lady that I’ve reached, 
or am about to reach, ‘the sear and yellow leaf, age?” 
asked Mr. Gibbons in affected dignity. 

“Indeed no, you are just in your prime. I was sug- 
gesting — no I never suggest, I just say what I mean. I 
mean that when you were younger that you were more 
given to pay compliments.” 

“So I’m led to infer that I have been negligent on 
that score,” solemnly demanded Mr. Gibbons, while Lo- 
retta, always a quiet and amused listener to these en- 
counters between Kate and her father looked lovingly on, 
and Lawrence lounged lazily in the depth of an easy 
chair and seemed to doze. 

“Not in respect to myself, mine host, I do not remem- 
ber ever receiving so glowing eulogy as a ‘stunning girl.’ 
But to go back to our point in question, you admit that 
society is irksome to you, yet, when my precious parent, 
a devotee at the shrine of all things social told you that 
Loretta being tall for her age should come out very short- 
ly, you actually assented to the absurd suggestion. Ac- 
knowledge that you did sir, ’ ’ she laughingly commanded. 

“Yes, Miss Kate, I did. What can a poor man do when 
such a magnihcent proposition as your mother gets after 
him? Bye the bye, she looks almost as young as your- 
self.” 

“Well ma is not so very much older than I. I have 
just reached my maturity, eighteen, and ma is just twenty- 
three years older than 1.” 

“Humph, that makes her only forty-one. She has still 
79 


a great social life before her. In her regard we cannot say 
society is dull,” he queried. 

“No, ma is charming in every respect, and yet I have 
only been out a short time and I am very weary.” 

“Young lady, you have been sitting up too late last 
night or something has happened,” laughed Mr. Gibbons. 

“Yes, you wonderful prophet, something did hap- 
pen,” cried Kate. 

“What was it Kate? tell us,” Loretta was all anima- 
tion. 

“Well, I did something that was contrary to my 
principles. ’ ’ 

“Kate I couldn’t believe it of you,” smiled Loretta. 

“Well all the same I did. At supper when the al- ^ 
monds were placed on the table, of course, that stupid 
custom of Philippino was started. What was it?” In 
answer to a query from Loretta, “If you find a double 
nut in a shell you eat one and at the same time the one 
with whom you are going to play, eats the other. The 
object after the nuts are disposed of is to see which will 
catch the other by either answering yes or no, or giving 
or taking something.” 

“There’s nothing wrong in that,” suggested Loreetta. 

“No, nothing wrong, but I dislike begging — ” 

“Begging,” vociferated Mr. Gibbons, “you ought to 
spend an afternoon in my office. ’Tis first the Little Sis- 
ters of the Poor, Good Shepherd Nuns, Franciscans, the 
Lord knows what all, begging for their dear little chil- 
dren, their old men, their sick, and I have to give them all 
something. ’ ’ 

“You dear,” murmured Kate, her eyes like stars. 

“Oh, bless your soul there’s no virtue in it. No man 
with any heart in him could say no to those sweet faced 

80 


women. If they’d ask me for the moon, I’d try to get it 
for them.” 

“What a mercy the nuns donot realize their power 
Loretta, you would be on the begging list in a very short 
time.” 

“Why do you object to beggars, Kate?” seriously 
asked Loretta. 

“If you mean begging nuns, I do not object to them. 
Those Religious are the sweetest things in your Church, 
Loretta. I refer to the Philippine gifts, lawn socials, card 
parties, and the like. Apropos of the Catholic Sisterhood, 
did you ever read Charles Dickens’ testimony to them? 
’Twas an article that appeared in ‘Household Words,’ 
in answer to criticisms on the many mendicant orders of 
the Church. ’Twas a begging that cost something to 
their individual pride, ’twas a continual offering to God 
of their own self esteem, for the benefit of others, with no 
return beyond the satisfaction of helping others; while 
our Church organizations, the criticizing element, practice 
wholesale beggary under the guise of charity, make money 
and enjoy themselves without any loss of self esteem. 
Do you understand, Loretta?” 

“Yes. How kind of Dickens to write that way about 
the sisters,” smiled Loretta. 

“Humph! he isn’t the only man that could bear 
testimony to those noble women. Of course, every man 
can’t hold a pen in his fist and write big words, but — ” 

‘ ‘ There, he can praise them just as splendidly as ever 
Charles did,” cooed Kate. 

“Well how about your principles?” drawled Law- 
rence. 

“Like all long winded speakers, I almost lost the 
thread of my discourse. I was telling about Lill’s party. 

81 


Well, contrary to all my strong sentiments on the subject 
of begging, I was drawn into a game of Philippine, but 
as my partner was as determined as myself not to be 
caught, we roused the interest of the whole party. Being 
put on my mettle, I finally won, much to my gratified 
disgust, and Mr. Gibbons, this morning before I was up, 
my gift came.” 

“In a hurry to pay his debt, lucky dog ! don ’t blame 
him. Wouldn’t mind playing a game with you myself. 
Miss Kate,” smiled Mr. Gibbons. “What was the gift?” 

“Here it is, a bracelet, I brought it o\’er to show you. 
Jim Reynolds gave it. The strangest thing the initials 
on the monogram are L. G. — Loretta ’s, you see. At first, 
I didn’t realize that this was a monogram, it looks just 
like an ornament, does it not?” Kate and Mr. Gibbons 
leaned in interest over a handsome bracelet. Loretta and 
Lawrence were both stitf and tense with suspense. 

‘ ' Strange, it looks like the mate to the pair I bought 
Loretta. Child have you the other?” asked her father. 

“No, Father,” stammered Loretta. Was the floor 
moving, what ailed everything? Kate, the quick-witted, 
saw Loretta’s agitation, was not slow to conjecture 
that Loretta owned the bracelet and that there was trouble 
connected with it; so with ready tact she at once dis- 
covered it was growing late and as the car was at the door 
she had better be going. No, she did not need an escort 
she had brought over Molly. 

Mr. Gibbons, annoyed at Kate’s precipitated depart- 
ure, and mystified by the monogram on the bracelet Kate 
had purposely left it in his hands, said pettishly, 

“Well, what does this mean anyhow?” and looking 
up he caught a most expressive glance pass between broth- 
er and sister. ‘ ‘ Good God ! Another damnable trick. What 


S2 


does this mean sir?” yelled the thoroughly exasperated 
father. 

“She will explain,” said Lawrence, and hastily van- 
ished. 

Mr. Gibbons, keenly aroused, was as indignant with 
Loretta as with Lawrence, would at first listen to nothing, 
told her he had lost confidence in her, she had no word 
of honor and many other hitter things. Shrinking from 
him because of her love for him, Loretta was dumb till 
he evoked a spark of his own spirit, then facing him she 
spoke earnestly, so earnestly that convinced in spite of 
himself, he finally promised to have patience with Law- 
rence. But do what he would, after that denouement, 
Mr. Gibbons could not remove a certain stiffness from his 
manner when dealing with his son, and this constraint 
had the effect on Lawrence of increasing his fear of his 
father, and of making him put on the abject air of shrink- 
ing from him. 

Loretta felt her only recourse in this sad state of 
affairs was to redouble the prayers. Sister Ambrose had 
impressed her with the truth that assisting devoutly at 
Mass was the greatest act she could perform, so Loretta 
made it a point never to miss the daily Mass. 

While the young mistress was praying, Mrs. Har- 
court had grown in this interval of time to be a dominant 
factor in the Gibbons household, Lawrence having pro- 
posed to her was laughingly rejected; her plans aimed 
higher. Loretta must be disposed of first and the best 
means for such disposal was an early marriage for the 
young girl. So when in accordance with these plans, 
Mrs. Harcourt suggested one evening, that Loretta’s de 
but should be anticipated a year, the father, at least, cor- 
dially assented. Loretta who had found in this short twelve 


months of her American life her duties were such as to 
encroach on the time she desired to give her father, his 
conversion being the main object of her life, strongly ob- 
jected to the proposed debut. At this point of the discus- 
sion Mrs. Harcourt and Kate left the Gibbons household 
to hold a council of war ; for towards the end, peace hung 
in the balance. 

“Father,” pleaded Loretta, “one would think you 
were tiring of my company. ’ ’ 

“Not at all my child; of course I grant I’ll probably be 
in danger of losing you altogether,” he mused. 

“Why, what do you mean?” cried Loretta, her cheeks 
tinted with the wild rose, while Lawrence grinned know- 
ingly. 

“In the course of natural events, my child, you will 
eventually leave your old dad. Indeed if I wasn’t as stiff 
as Lucifer with some of the swells that come here, you’d 
have been gone long ago.” 

“Yes, Leo seems dead struck on her, if I know what 
is what. ’ ’ 

“Hush Lawrence,” aspirated Loretta, and returning 
to the subject of the debate. “Father do you really mean 
to have me come out next month.” 

“Sure thing, Mrs. Harcourt — ” 

“What has she got to do with it, father? Why is she 
so interested?” 

“ It is for her interest that she is interested in yours, ’ ’ 
cynically observed Lawrence. Loretta stared at him. 

“I don’t understand Larry.” 

“No, of course, you don’t. I guess your Convent 
training didn’t explain along those lines,” sneered Law- 
rence. Mr. Gibbons, with knit brows and eyes, keenly 

84 


alert, was studying his son. “What are you insinuating 
sir?” he angrily asked. 

“I'm talking plain English, father. ’Tis common talk 
of the town the game Mrs. Harcourt is playing.” 

‘ ' Damn it, what game ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Why you and your money. ’ ’ A sudden dash and an 
uplifted arm were too suggestive for Lawrence, and Lo- 
retta found herself alone with her father. 

“Damn his impudence. Talk of the town, I’d like to 
string up some of those gossips, blame me if I wouldn’t,” 
growled her father. Loretta sat in a silent horrified maze. 
Intelligent comprehension slowly dawning on her till her 
father, having fussed and fumed himself into something 
like reason, caught her thoughtful expression. 

“Loretta, my child, you don’t believe it?” 

“Believe what. Father?” she gently asked. 

‘ ‘ Why, why hang it, you know what Lawrence said ? ’ ’ 

“About Mrs. Harcourt? I do not know, father, she 
does love money.” 

Her father rose with dignity and asked, “Loretta, 
have I ever given you a moment’s suspicion that I ever 
intended putting anyone in your mother’s place?” 

“No, father.” 

“Well then forget it. I don’t know what the devil 
ails Lawrence, ’ ’ looking at his watch, ‘ ‘ Great Scott, I am 
late — due at a meeting,” and so saying, with a hasty 
kiss he hurried from the room. 


85 


CHAPTER XV 

THE CONVENT SUNSHINE IN MODERN PAGANISM. 

Long, long after Loretta sat thinking, her heart was 
heavy, what was the matter with the world anyhow? 
How could she respect Mrs. Harcourt, if the debut was 
but a plan to allow that woman to have more time with 
her father? How could Mrs. Harcourt be decent and 
scheme so? And then Lawrence. Was this the world the 
Jesuit Father at one of the Retreats, in fact her last one, 
meant when he told them to carry out into the world with 
them the sunshine of the Convent. How vividly his words 
came back. 

''The world needs you my children. There are souls 
out there in that maelstrom of temptation waiting for 
such as you, waiting for you, pure souls, bred in the sun- 
shine of God’s grace, waiting for you to carry that same 
sunshine to make light in the dark shadow's of many a 
tempted soul; you must be as light-houses shining on the 
black waters of an evil world. A world as wicked as was 
the ancient empire of Rome ; dances, movies, undress, — 
unsex the women. You do not know sin, as sin exists there. 
God grant that you may never know, but this I tell you, 
kneeling in the sunshine of the Blessed Sacrament, ask 
Christ to make you real Convent girls; not shams! Be 
the real article ! the genuine, unselfish, self-sacrificing, 
and prayerful convent girl. Count that day lost which is 
not marked by kind acts. Let your mission be to carry 
into a sinful world the sunshine of Christ. ’ ’ 

Surely that was the shadow of sin, that a Christian 
woman should be scheming, to turn the Sacrament of 

86 


Marriage into a business deal. Oh, it was horrible. Was she 
the Convent girl, had she carried light? Oh, no, she was 
good for nothing, she had no influence even on her brother, 
who if he were nothing worse seemed to have no higher 
ideal than pleasure, and, yet, she had lived and grown in 
the Sanctuary for sixteen years. Why! the Apostles only 
had three. “Oh, my Convent, my beautiful Convent, is it 
all lost, all for nothing, the teaching I received? No, in 
His strength, in His light I must elfect something good.’’ 

Across the waters in the dim lighted Chapel Sister 
Amrose knelt in the sunshine of the Sanctuary lamp and 
prayed. 


87 


CHAPTER XVI 

A. LOVE STORY BY A LOVER 

One misty morning as Loretta and Nurse were re- 
turning from Mass, the former heard a familiar voice 
calling her, and turning saw Kate’s face, at her auto 
window. 

“Why child, what wonderful mission are you on?” 
Loretta smiled. ‘ ‘ Might I not ask the same of you, Kate ? ’ ’ 
“Ah dear, I have no mission. I am dead tired, but not 
sick at heart, a little fearful, though. Come get in ; glad 
to see you Nurse. You look as fresh as those Irish posies 
you tell me about.” 

“Ah be aisy. Miss Kate, ’tis yourself kissed the 
Blarney Stone.” Kate laughed and turning to Loretta 
said, “Of course you can judge from my attire whence I 
came, and you?” 

“From Mass, you know,” answered Loretta simply. 

“What a darling you are, is not she Nurse?” said 
Kate, gazing at Loretta affectionately. “A year has 
changed you greatly. Do you know you look five years 
older. ’ ’ 

“Why shouldn’t she? Taking the whole house on 
her back,” said Nurse earnestly. Loretta turned to her 
fondly, patted her hand, turned again to Kate, and said, 

“Five years? Sometimes I feel ten years older not be- 
cause I have the house on my back though, our darling old 
Nurse carries that. I think, I have grown older since 
father has found out about your mother. Do you think, 
Kate, she notices any change in him ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, Loretta,” answered Kate, “Ma is quick to 
88 


sense things and I think she feels instinctively there is 
no hope for her in that quarter. It is shocking to speak 
this way of your mother, but as I know her main object 
in trying to marry money is mainly for me, I must for- 
give her. Just now I am awfully happy and in an awful 
tangle too. You have grown so mature, I feel I can tell 
you — and yet — you have never been in love. ’ ^ 

‘‘In love,” echoed Loretta in mock indignation, “of 
course I have been in love.” 

“With whom?” asked the astonished Kate while 
Nurse, with genuine surprise depicted on her most ex- 
pressive face, looked at Loretta. 

“With father, Lawrence, Nurse, you.” 

“Nonsense, child, that is not the love I mean, now if 
you were a year older — ” 

“Kate Harcourt, how old are you?” 

“Nineteen and in my twentieth year.” 

“I am seventeen, in my eighteenth year.” 

“Yes, but in experience, worldliness and all that goes 
with them, I am nineteen, plus ten. Yet, you have such a 
keen sympathy with poor, suffering humanity, I believe 
you would understand.” 

“Is it a case of suffering?” eagerly cried Loretta. 

“No, you mother dove, it is a case of pure happiness. 
Listen then, Loretta, to my love story.” Like a pleased 
child at the mere mention of a story Loretta leaned eager- 
ly forward. Nurse was in a small ecstasy. “A year before 
you came from France, dear heart, I met my fate.” 

“You knew him all that time and did not tell me?” 
said Loretta reproachfully. 

“Look at that now,” said Nurse, “Ah, Miss Kate, 
you’re the deep one.” 

“Nurse,” cried Kate, “if you ever tell my secret — ” 
89 


“Is it me? Me tell a secret?” echoed Nurse with 
dignity. 

“Oh, go on Kate,” laughed Loretta. “Nurse will 
never tell. You knew all that time?” 

“I KNEW him, but I wasn’t certain of his LOVE 
for me until last night, or I should say this morning.” 

“Is it fixed?” delightedly cried Loretta. Nurse 
beamed. Kate’s face grew grave. 

“Ah, ‘there’s the rub,’ Loretta, Nurse, dearie, my 
boy is poor, only a reporter on the Herald and you know 
how that will go with Ma. Where did I meet him?” she 
laughed. “I was at Atlantic Beach, sitting on the sands 
right in the blazing sun, not having any complexion, I 
do not have to worry about losing it — yes, I have to be 
careful about my nose, a big nose, when it gets tinted with 
the warm rays of the sun is not pretty.” 

“Oh, Kate, stop ruminating and tell us your story,” 
laughed Loretta. 

“Where was I? Oh, yes, sitting in the sand, eating 
an apple and dreaming, but oh, such an awakening — a 
big wave broke all over me and my dreams : you should 
have seen me, Loretta, drenched from the crown of my 
gipsy hat to the tip of my pretty foot — that is one thing 
pretty I have — and salt water oozing from ears, eyes, nose, 
mouth, and in this poetic niobe pose, my fate found me,” 
she laughed, “John Russell, you' know him.” 

“Well he says he did fall in love with me then and 
there and such a picture as I made,” unconscious of the 
fact that particular moment was one of beauty for Kate, 
her eyes sparkling with amusement, her brown cheeks a 
brilliant red, her drenched hat, even adding its charm, as 
having lost its stiffness, it clung tightly to her handsome 
head and brought out its fine outlines.” 

90 


“Well, how did he tell you?” naively asked Loretta. 

“Tell me, bless you for an innocent child, listen to 
her, Nurse.” Nurse laughed. “You do not think he told 
me then. No, he simply walked up to me, hat in hand and 
asked without a glipimer of amusement in his beautiful 
eyes if he could be o‘f help to me. I told him I really did not 
know how he could help, except to wring me out. Then 
he did laugh. It may have been the saving of him, that 
laugh. He asked if he could go to the hotel for a change 
of clothes for me. I protested. I could have stood there 
forever in my wet duds, gazing at him, Loretta, gazing 
at an honest, good man. That is what I saw, a man, a 
true man, big, sturdy, blond, dressed in neat but poor 
clothes, but a gentleman. After that chance encounter 
we frequently met, although the proud gentleman made 
it a point to tell me the only reason that brought him to 
Atlantic City (he did not belong to the rich set there) 
was that the Herald had sent him as a substitute for a sick 
reporter on the Seymour Divorce case. He, John, hated 
the thing, hates anything like divorce. His was political 
speeches, but of course, being an employee he had to do 
what he was told. Whenever ma; saw him with me, she 
tried to freeze him out, but he would not be froze. Last 
night at the ball he declared himself, when utterly wretch- 
ed he could not keep it from me. He wanted me for his 
wife. How I admired him at that moment. He said he 
knew he was a poor man and I Was a rich girl (people, you 
know, believe us wealthy) but that did not count before 
God. He told me he was a good man, as good as he knew 
how to be. He had never loved another woman ; ‘ Twas a 
maiden passion for a maid.’ He wanted me and he was 
going to get me, if I loved him.” 

91 


“Look at that now, glory be!” delightedly cried 
Nurse, while Kate continued, 

“He had hesitated long before he told me, because 
he had to fight a big temptation with his pride : dreaded 
what the world would say : marrying for money, but he 
conquered all pride and he was going to act honestly be- 
fore God and man. He was going to marry me.” 

“Ah, that’s the boy, God bless him,” cried Nurse. 

“You ought to have seen his delight when I told him 
I was not wealthy. But what do you you think he said? 
He could not and he would not, mind you, marry ME if I 
did not become a Catholic.” 

“Asthore, that’s a man, every inch of him. That’s 
the Catholic, for you. Oh, Miss Kate, go down on your 
knees every night and thank God for such a man,” cried 
Nurse. 

‘ ‘ Kate, I ’ve been praying for you to become a Catho- 
lic,” joyously chimed in Loretta. 

“Well, keep on Loretta, and Nurse, you storm heaven, 
because when I told him I would become a Christian 
Scientist if it pleased him, he gravely informed me that 
that faith would not count, that I would have to become 
a Catholic through conviction, not for him.” 

“Look at that now,” delightedly cried Nurse. 

“But the tug-of-war is on when he tells my precious 
ma.” 

“Ah, the fat’s in the fire when he tells your ma. Miss 
Kate. Nothing will suit her but 'multi.’ There’s nothin’ 
for you to do but to run off with him, ’ ’ the nurse was so 
serious that the two girls laughed heartily. 

“But what on earth brings Mr. Sibley out this time 
of the morning?” asked Kate as Mr. Sibley, with uplifted 
hat and a radiant smile rapidly passed them. “There is 

92 


a man, Loretta, that is a mystery. He has lots of good in 
him, most interesting, yet I have heard rumors — I am 
afraid he gambles. No, it is nothing dreadful, but nol 
quite respectable, however, be kind to him Loretta, he 
strikes me as a man who has a sorrow. Well, good-bye dear 
heart, pray for me, do not forget Nurse. Tell your father ? 
Oh dear no, Loretta, it must be kept quiet until I am a 
Catholic. I will have to see Father Dusette at once. Bless 
you child! if John says he will not marry me unless I be- 
long to his Church, he means every word of it.’’ 

Interested deeply in this new insight into the work- 
ings of the human heart, Loretta entered the dining room 
and greeted her father. His surprise when he noticed her 
walking attire reminded her she had forgotten her usual 
precaution of taking off her wraps. 

'‘What’s this? Out this time in the morning? Trying 
to get ahead of your old dad? Been down to see about 
stocks?” 

"Perhaps you think I know nothing about them, but 
I can take stock in some things,” she answered gaily. 
He smiled at her and asked if Lawrence had risen? 

"No, dear papa, he came in late last night with Mr. 
Sibley.” 

"With Sibley, did you say?” he shook his head. 
"Lawrence is too much with that fellow. I don’t like it.” 

"What is wrong with Mr. Sibley?” asked Loretta. 

"That’s just it, I don’t know whether I can explain 
what is wrong with Sibley. He seems a nice fellow, clever, 
very clever, reserved in fact ; that is it ; I have hit the nail 
on the head. Why the dickens is the fellow so reserved? 
Why don’t we know more about him? Without being 
dressed to kill he ’s always gentlemanly looking — without 
showing any great externals of wealth no one can point a 

93 


finger at him and say he is poor. No man can tell what he 
does for a living.” 

“Is he not a lawyer, papa?” asked Loretta. 

“Yes, I believe he dabbles in law. I happened last 
year to go into Judge Gumming ’s office and Sibley was 
attorney for the defendant. ’Twas a poor affair. Another 
time at a political meeting, I saw Sibley taking shorthand 
notes and some years past it was rumored that he was 
getting money on the baize.” 

“On the baize, papa? echoed Loretta. 

“Yes, gambling, in fact, I know he did gamble. Sam- 
son said he did.” 

“Is that wrong, papa?” 

“It’s not wrong, but it’s not respectable, especially 
if he cheats.” 

“Oh, father, he never- does that?” indignantly re- 
torted Loretta. 

“Well, perhaps he doesn’t. I rather like the fellow, 
he seems decent but I am afraid his past is shady. I was 
thinking seriously of forbidding him to come to the house, 
but, as he seems to have enough sense not to wear his 
welcome out, I haven’t made any objection, but I don’t 
think his influence on Lawrence is the best.” 

“Father, I have seen little of Mr. Sibley, probably in 
this whole year that I have spent since I left school, I have 
not had more than a dozen conversations with him, but I 
found him very interesting. Oh, he knows so much, there is 
not a subject you can touch on that he cannot tell you 
something about — and I cannot believe a man of such re- 
search would be hurtful to Lawrence. ’ ’ She spoke earnest- 
ly. Her father glanced keenly at her, with a good bit of 
his wall street alertness, but she bore the inspection with 
calmness apparently unconscious of his scrutiny. Satis- 

94 


fied that Loretta was not unduly interested in Mr. Sibley, 
her father said, 

“Yes, I grant you Mr. Sibley is clever, and his com- 
panionship might be good for Lawrence if the other part 
of him is as good as he is — well, clever.” 

' ‘ I think he is both, father, ’ ’ she answered with simple 
dignity. “We should not brand him as bad till we are 
positive that he is. You know what Shakespear says, 
‘Who steals my purse steals trash. 

But he who steals my good name — ’ ” 

“I guess that’s about right, girlie. We’ll give the 
poor dog a chance till we find he is a cur. But, Loretta, 
I am worried lately very much about Lawrence. Do you 
know I am beginning to think as Nurse would say, 
‘There’s a bad drop in him.’ I don’t know where it comes 
from, on both sides, both mine and his mother’s, are good 
sterling stock. What it is, I don’t know.” 

“Papa,” she timidly suggested, “you know Lawrence 
ought to be a Catholic. He made his First Communion, 
you know. I think the whole trouble with him is religion, 
or rather the want of it.” ’Twas the first time since they 
knew each other that she broached the subject. 

He gazed blankly at her, then reddened. 

“Oh, I don’t know, religion never bothered me very 
much. I’ve been honest all my life; why, if I did the con- 
temptible things Larry did, I’d kick myself; and I very 
rarely darken the church door. Am I not a respectable 
member of society, Loretta?” 

There was an anxious ring in his inquiry which 
touched her deeply. What should she say? — to her, her 
father was perfect in love and devotion — but to God, had 
the time come to speak plainly? Might she not wound 
him so severely as to estrange him. Noticing her silence, 

95 


and taking for granted that she could not give a satis- 
factory answer, he started up suddenly from the table with 
a suppressed sigh. Intuition is one of woman’s preroga- 
tives. Loretta understood and knew then and there the 
moment was inopportune. 

“Papa, do you ask me if you are a respectable mem- 
ber of society? I think you are an ornament. Tell me if 
you have time, what has Larry done lately.” 

“Well, I stopped at Gustave Dorrell’s studio yester- 
day to see what progress Larry had made in the last six 
months and actually the fellow hasn’t done a tap but begin 
and rub out. Old Dorrell says he has great talent, but that 
he is so confoundedly lazy that he accomplishes nothing ; 
and the worst of it is, he actually dotes on the rascal. 
When I threatened to stop the lessons he nearly got on 
his knees.” 

“Maybe the poor man needs the money,” she sug- 
gested. 

“Not by a long shot. He has all the pupils he can 
handle. Suppose you drop in there some day and see what 
the boy is doing. I wish to the Lord he would take it in 
his head to marry.” 

This suggestion brought back Kate’s love story; 
was matrimony in the air ? “ Papa, Lawrence can not do 
much now to support himself, what would he do if he had 
a wife?” she asked. 

“A blamed sight better. I tell you it takes a wife to 
make many a man. If that fellow had to hustle, perhaps 
he would show us some. Now if he took a fancy to 
Kate—” 

“Larry does not care for Kate, at all,” said Loretta 
in her most decided tones. 


96 


“He doesn’t hey, did he tell you so?” he asked 
eagerly. 

“Yes, papa, he took a dislike to her the first time 
they met, and he seems still to be impressed by it.” 

“Anyone else in the wind?” 

“Not that I know of, father.” 

‘ ‘ Strange, ’ ’ he mused, ‘ ‘ there is no house in the town 
that Larry spends more time at than the Harcourts. Isn’t 
that so?” 

“Not now, father, he seems to have stopped goirig.” 


97 


CHAPTER XVII 
A EEVELATION OF SOUL 

Lawrence, petted by all his women friends, was de- 
cidedly peeved by Mrs. Harcourt’s good humored re- 
jection. His pride, hurt more than his heart, came to his 
rescue, and he soon solaced his wounded feelings, with 
another and younger love. Loretta, too simple to under- 
stand what went on between Mrs. Harcourt and Lawrence, 
was horrified to learn the truth from the astute Kate, 
although in her brother’s case, the older woman was guilt- 
less of any scheming, being thoroughly in earnest in her 
attack on Mr. Gibbons’ affections, this fact did not console 
Loretta. 

To the convent girl, early impressed with the fitness 
of things, with the serious aspect of all things holy, this 
light holding of the sacrament of matrimony was little 
less than sacrilegious. 

When a short while after, Kate’s information had 
sunk deep in Loretta’s heart, she was truly shocked 
by Lawrence ’s flippant request that she should accompany 
him to the theatre to see his best girl. 

''Best girl, Larry? Did you have a better?” 

"Sure Mike. Good, better, best, but Trixy is the best 
ever. Go get ready, I have the tickets and as Dad is out 
of town, we’ll take in the play and then go to Shanley’s 
with Trixy to an oyster supper.” 

With a strange misgiving of something wrong, Lo- 
retta asked who Trixy was. 

"She? Oh, she’s all right. First-class girl, supports 
her mother, you know.” 


98 


“What does she doV’ persisted Loretta. 

“Do, do? Why — she acts — dances, you know.’^ 

In the whole year she had spent in New York City, Lo- 
retta had attended many a play, enjoying the stage as a 
child would, hut her father being particular in his select- 
ion, she had as yet, never looked upon the ballet. Her 
shocked bewilderment may be well understood, when she 
saw for the first time a stage full of half clad women. 

“Oh, Lawrence, let us go home. ’Tis horrible,’’ she 
cried. 

Half amused, but decidedly angry, her brother, seiz- 
ing her soft arm in his firm grasp, bade her in a rough 
whisper not to make a ninny of herself and to sit still. 

Knowing it was useless to put her strength against 
his brute force, she yielded and trembling with disgust, 
waited the descent of the curtain, not before he had shown 
her the tallest dancer as Trixy, his best girl. 

“Lawrence, it is ended?” 

“Yes, wasn’t she a peach?” 

“Does she expect you, Lawrence?” 

“Of course, you wait here. I’ll have her out in a 
minute.” 

Loretta was only a girl, but all the woman in her 
rose in revolt against this brother of hers. Getting to her 
feet, she put a detaining hand on his arm and said in low 
tones, but with so decided a ring in them that he could 
almost fancy his father spoke, 

“Lawrence, if you go to that woman, you will not 
find me here when you get back.” 

“The devil, listen.” 

“If you don’t take me home, this minute. I’ll go by 
myself. ’ ’ Loretta was trembling with indignation. 

“I’ll do nothing of the kind. Don’t be mulish. Trixy 
99 


is all right/’ The crowd was fast disappearing, and the 
brother and sister, creating not a little conjecture on 
the part of those leaving, were by this time standing 
alone. This state of things did not escape the attention 
of Loretta, and added fuel to the fire of her anger. Re- 
alizing it was useless to argue with him, she left him 
abruptly and fled up the aisle. Forced in spite of himself 
to follow her, he controlled Ms anger until they reached 
their auto and then he let loose. “ ’Twas all the nuns, what 
good was an education that made a prude out of a girl, 
what was the harm in a bare leg, didn’t God make the 
leg, wasn’t it a piece of beauty as much as the mountain? 
If that was all the good convents were, it was no wonder 
Victor Hugo wrote as he did in Les Miserables. Trixy was 
a good girl, a damn sight better than the Harcourts 
that would sell their souls for money, etc.” 

Loretta listened, till an anger, hot, contemptuous, 
against this degenerate brother of hers, took control of 
her to such a degree as to frighten her. ’Twas the first 
time in her life that she felt contempt for another, and 
that other was her brother. In shocked silence’ she list- 
ened, fear of committing some dreadful sin, kept her lips 
sealed. When home was reached, rushing blindly up to 
her own room, she threw herself on her knees and sobbed 
out her anguish. 

‘ ‘ What was the good of a convent education ? ’ ’ dinned 
in her ears, till by force of reiteration, the sentence was 
the suggestion of temptation. A temptation that the devil 
always uses against the soul, that, loving God fights ob- 
stacles in His honor, till nature, becoming tired, his satanic 
majesty, throws his last card, often a trump — discour- 
agement. 

“What is the use?” Prayers, Communions, early rising, 
100 


hundreds of little self denials, all for nothing! He is 
worse now than when I first met him, then he had respect 
for me, he heeded me a little — now, I am a ‘ prude 

Far into the night, her spiritual battle raged, her 
spirit growing in bitterness and rebellion, till a horrible 
possibility, a sudden revelation, made Loretta gasp. Could 
it be that she, placed in the same environment, in the 
same temptation, might be as bad, perhaps worse, than 
Lawrence? Was she not his sister? Were they not of 
the same blood? Was it wounded pride, that caused this 
bitterness, or was it a just indignation that God’s honor 
was hurt? Folding her hands, she prayed as a simple 
child at its mother’s knee. 

“Mary, I am your child, I am lost in darkness. Give 
me back the light of grace,” and with this prayer, she 
feel asleep, not before she had made the resolution to 
greet Lawrence in the morning as if nothing had hap- 
pened, but no Lawrence made his appearance at the 
breakfast table. Whether he was ashamed, or sulky, Lo- 
retta, was not to know, although from what she heard 
Nurse say to Lucy about Lawrence getting out of the 
wrong side of the bed, Loretta might infer that her self- 
righteous brother was not suffering from penitence. 

In the interview with Father Dusette, Loretta laid 
bare her terrible temptation to discouragement. 

“My child,” replied the priest, “never forget in all 
the trials of life, in all the joys and vicissitudes that go 
to make up life, that you are dealing with human nature, 
and human nature without the grace of God, is a pretty 
poor article. Temptations are not sins. Thank God for 
temptations, child, but in all humility ask Him for the 
strength to conquer them. 

“How do we prove the Divinity of the Catholic 
101 


Church? By the fact that, in spite of persecutions, bad 
Catholics, schismatics, scandals in the very sanctuary 
even, all proving the weakness of human nature ; She, the 
Church, has lived, and will live, till the end of time ; 
because human as she is ; she is Divine. 

“Courage, Loretta. You may not see results. That 
foolish brother may help to break your heart, but your 
prayers and self denials will not be lost. Some way, 
somewhere, God will answer. In the meantime, while ask- 
ing God’s help, I think it might be well to make use of 
human aid. ’ ’ 

Loretta mutely questioned the priest. 

“That dark, young man, that friend of Larry’s — ” 

“You mean Mr. Sibley, Father?” eagerly asked 
Loretta. 

“Yes, that’s the one. Not quite fit for beatification, 
I understand, but dissipated, as he is, Leo Sibley has more 
principle than your brother and I believe that if you 
could appeal to Mr. Sibley to talk to Larry about the 
dancer, — oh, he knows child, young men don’t hide those 
things from each other. And now let me tell you about 
Kate Harcourt. I think she’ll make a fine Catholic.” 

Loretta beamed. “Oh, father, how grand, but so 
soon?” her face clouded. 

“Well, what now ,child?” smiled Father Dusette. 

A wild rose bloomed in Loretta’s cheek as she an- 
swered, “Why, father, it is so soon — maybe John — may- 
be — ” with a hearty laugh he gaily cried, 

“I grant you, John has a good bit to do with the sud- 
den desire for religion.” 

“Well can that do — the Church?” eagerly demanded 
Loretta. 


102 


“No, we don’t baptize love-smitten young ladies,” 
he replied with his rare smile. 

A disapointed “oh.” 

“But I am glad to tell you, Loretta, in Kate’s case, 
I can easily make an exception. Apart from her devotion 
to our gallant John, I believe her to be a very conscienti- 
ous young woman, anxious to receive the Faith. God has 
made use of John as an instrument. I don’t know how 
her mother will act; Kate anticipates a storm in that 
quarter, but we will pray.” 

As Kate apprehendeed, a storm was brewing, but did 
not break until some time after. 


103 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE TRUE CONVENT GIRL 

Loretta, acting on Father Dusette’s advice, made a 
Coadjutor of Mr. Sibley. 

“Leave it to me. Miss Gibbons, I’ll soak Larry, all 
right, the young rascal. That’s not a hard problem.” 
He paused, — she waited. 

“If all fails. I’ll read him a chapter of my wrecked 
life.” Mr. Sibley’s tone was bitter. 

“Your life?” asked Loretta, with sweet sympathy. 

“Only five years older than Lawrence, I’m twenty 
years in experience. Loretta, will you believe me,” his 
voice shook with suppressed passion, “when I tell you 
though my past has not been one of which I am proud ; I 
never wittingly led your brother astray ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, I know, I’m sure,” cried Loretta in distress, 
‘ ‘ I never dreamed you would harm him, Mr. Sibley. ’ ’ 

“I always loved the kid, I see his faults — ”he stopped, 
“Since I’ve known you and have realized what woman- 
hood the Catholic Church can evoke, I regret I have 
left it.” 

“Oh, go back, Mr. Sibley, go back!” she cried. 

“Loretta, in some things, there is no ‘go back’,” he 
choked. “A chapter from my life.” 

What did he mean? — he seemed anxious to tell her, 
and yet the telling seemed to be an agony to him. In 
great distress Loretta placed her hand on his arm and 
said, 

“Mr. Siley, whatever your past was please return to 
the Catholic Church. I am sure you are trying to be good 

104 


now/’ His dark face was illuminated. His eyes filled and 
taking her hand, he bowed over it, saying, 

‘‘Thank you, Loretta,” he hastily left the room. 
’Twas long before Loretta slept that night. A 
simple child, a little over a year ago, — taught thoroughly 
her Christian Doctrine in the sacred shelter of her Con- 
vent home, the principles of the Catholic Church had un- 
consciously sunk deep into her pure receptive mind, till 
the exigencies of the moment, the perplexing needs of her 
life, brought these principles into activity. She, the pure, 
untried girl, inexperienced in sin, knew and recognized it 
in her brother and her brother’s friend, and knew too, that 
God expected, because of the grace received in those six- 
teen years spent with the nuns, that she was to spare no 
effort to redeem these two men. There was absolutely 
no conceit in this assumption : there was revelation. 

The saints need not be actors to understand the acted 
drama, nor are they egotists, in knowing God’s commission 
to them to save souls. 

God be blessed for the uncanonized saints, our convent 
girls, as the Jesuit Father classified them, “the real 
article.” 


105 


CHAPTER XIX 

MRS. HARCOURT’S DIPLOMACY 

Mrs. Harcourt was too keen in her analysis of naman 
nature not to understand that she had lost out with Mr. 
Gibbons, that her matrimonial scheme was by some un- 
known agency, — a failure. She shrewdly suspected either 
Lawrence or Loretta, a moment’s reflection and the lat- 
ter as too innocent, was dismissed. Lawrence? Yes, it 
might be. Wounded pride on his part. But whoever was 
the agent, she knew that if she intended keeping in touch 
with the Gibbons family, she must play another card. 

With all the passion of her worldly nature, she loved 
her daughter Kate. Her interests, her settlement in life, 
was the mother’s predominant passion. 

Living as the Harcourts did, in the rush and expense 
of New York society, it was an absolute necessity that they 
should have an assured income. Looking over the failure 
of the year’s intercourse with her old lover’s family, Mrs. 
Harcourt was very sad. What was she to do ? 

Since Kate would not marry either father or son (of 
John Russell’s engagement to Kate Mrs. Harcourt was 
strangely ignorant), some other plan must be thought of. 
Kate had, since the time of her dehut, received the hos- 
pitality of many of their friends without any return on 
the part of the Harcourts. The smallness of their house 
being the oft repeated excuse, but that excuse could not 
last, so as a final resource, her last throw — Mrs. Harcourt 
(resolved to hire a small but select hall and give a ball as 
a return for the many courtesies showered on the kindly, 
popular Kate), of course it meant a straining to the limit 

106 


of their meagre monthly interest, but if Kate gained by it 
a wealthy suitor, the future so far as money went, was 
secure. Mrs. Harcourt had not been a leader with New 
York society without becoming an adroit diplomat. Know- 
ing she had lost Mr. Gibbons as a possible suitor. Why not 
make him a partner in her effort to further Kate’s inter- 
ests? No sooner thought of than done. A hurried visit 
to the office of her old admirer; a charming display of 
motherly solicitude, an humble explanation of economy 
practiced, and Mr. Gibbons was won. 

“Why hang it, Kitty, what’s the good of friends if 
jmu can’t use them? I wish to the Lord, Kate and Law- 
rence took a fancy to each other, but since they won’t, — 
anything on God’s earth that I can do.” 

A slight loan — was all she would accept, would pay it 
back next month, if he would just for that night bring 
Loretta to the ball — she shrewdly felt, he would not grace 
the occasion Without Loretta — of course she was not out — 
but then this was to be a private affair, just a couple of 
hundred, — full dress, of course, yes, she would he glad to 
look after Loretta’s dress, the darling. Then she, Loretta 
could retire to private life until her formal debut ; oh, no, 
she couldn’t think of taking a large sum from Mr. Gib- 
bons, if it ever got out, etc. 

“Get out, nothing. Who’s to know about it? Kitty, 
have sense. I have more money than I know what to do 
with. Of course, it will all be Loretta’s and Lawrence’s if 
the scamp behaves. I have no interest in life but them — 
will never marry — live for them, but that don’t prevent 
me from helping a friend.” 

The end was, Mrs. Harcourt left the office a little bit 
humiliated, but at the same time, not a little elated in the 
fact that she had in her possession, a goodly check which, 

107 


for the time, would allay all uneasiness as to whether she 
could meet expenses or not. 

Mrs. Harcourt was a woman of intense action, what- 
ever she did was accomplished at high pressure, but al- 
ways carrying on the exterior, the calm of the perfect 
lady, she often deceived the world at large. But not Kate. 
Quick to note any exhibition of weariness or nervousness 
on the part of her mother, Kate, under the quickened in- 
fluence of her new love, saw with alarm, her mother’s 
intense preoccupation and, on learning about the coming 
ball, tried to dissuade her from having it ; advice was not 
accepted ; warning of expense unheeded ; arguments 
thrown away, and Kate gave up in despair. The services 
of Lawrence and Mr. Sibley were enlisted, the latter be- 
ing delighted that for a short while, at least, he would 
have Lawrence where he could look after him ; the former, 
in his easy good nature, pleased to be of use. 

Mrs. Harcourt had a genius for keeping persons 
working — invitations had to be written, as it was to be 
such in informal affair, printed invitations would be out 
of place, of course the fact that such invitations were less 
expensive, never entered Mrs. Harcourt ’s mind — decora- 
tions looked after — again informality was an excuse for 
not hiring a draper — the supper was an important affair — 
no supper at a big ball of course, but this, you know, was 
different, and so on. 

Mr. Sibley listened to the flow of exquisite language, 
given in her most charming manner and laughingly 
promised to stay at his post if he were to drop from 
exhaustion. Lawrence, peeved as he had been, with his 
former lady love, fell under her charm again, and even he, 
too, promised everything, even to lead the German, once 
obsolete,, but returning to its own again. 

108 


Of course the two gentlemen heard Mrs. Harcourt’s 
eulogies about themselves. Mrs. Harcourt intended that 
they should, she was talking to Kate. 

“She’s a craekerjack, Sib. Imagine the coolness of 
her making use of a rejected suitor — sure thing, I know I 
was a jackass to ask her — but I did. Gave me the mitten 
and here I am. What the — ? Now, look here Leo, if you 
€;xpect me to work with you, keep clear of Trixy. It’s 
none of your damn business. I’ll marry whom I please. 
What did you say ? Father ? Unless you tell him, he knows 
nothing about it.” 

Kate joined them at this juncture and the dangerous 
topic was dropped, but at the first opportunity that pre- 
sented itself, Lawrence went off to pleasanter quarters. 
During the weeks preceeding the ball, although he re- 
mained faithful to his promise to drill for the German, he 
took particular care not to be alone with Mr. Sibley. 

Loretta, pleased as any girl would be, by the antici- 
pation of her first big ball, two hundred persons seemed 
large to Loretta, was especially pleased, as this ball was 
not to be a launching into the swim of social life ; but one 
anxiety held her mind. Lawrence and Trixy. She grew 
more anxious as Mr. Sibley in his short reports to her had 
nothing encouraging to tell. Lawrence was ugly, would 
not be handled, but sympathizing deeply with her sisterly 
solicitude, Mr. Sibley tried to cheer her. 

Plan and work as hard as she might, Mrs. Harcourt 
could not succeed in having the ball at the time she de- 
sired it, for the very simple reason an autocrat barred 
her way and that high perconage was Lady Gordon, the 
official authority on all things that pertained to dress. 

To attend an affair given by any leaders of New York 
society and not wear the stamp of Lucille on the attire 

109 


was in itself enough to brand the costume as not fashion- 
able. But just as Mrs. Harcourt needed her, the artistic 
fashioner of style declared emphatically she could not 
and would not, handle any dresses till a month had passed. 
Mrs. Harcourt with a sigh, compromised for the length of 
time that must elapse before she could, with one grand 
effort, cancel Kate ’s social obligations — by giving a candy 
pull party to a small but select crowd of eligibles, warning 
the invited guests that in order to keep in the spirit of the 
candy pull, the candy making and supper should take 
place in the kitchen presided over by their cook Mollie 
Donaghue. 

Kate ’s love for her mother, though indulgent, was not 
blind and the girl understood that candy pull and ball 
were but a means towards her settlement in life. Know- 
ing that there was no one on earth who could fill John 
Russell’s place in her affections, in anticipation Kate 
grieved over the disappointment that was surely to be 
her mother’s portion, when she learned of her daughter’s 
engagement. Kate might, indeed, have put an end to 
much trouble and expense by telling her mother the truth 
but with the hope that often comes to the hard-pressed, 
the former hoped that in putting off the inevitable some- 
thing unexpected might happen. Then, too, she know- 
ing that the excitement of preparation though wearing 
on her mother’s nerves, was a stimulant, an intellectual 
bracer, let the preparations go on. 

Mrs. Harcourt loved action; inaction to her meant 
stupidity, so said Kate when talking over the coming 
events of candy pull and party with the most sympathetic 
friend a girl ever had, Loretta, she, the former explained 
the lay of the land and begged prayers, earnest prayers 
for her mother. 


no 


Lawrence continued to e a great source of anxiety 
to Loretta seldom home in the evening, the natural con- 
clusion drawn by her was that he was getting more en- 
tangled with the dancer. 

‘ ‘ More things are wrought by prayer than this world 
knows of.” 

Many an apparently hopeless spiritual ease is saved 
by the Communion of Saints. The chain of prayer — this 
Communion, is one of God’s mercies to erring man. 

To Lawrence, if you had asked him, ’twas a case of 
disillusion, but who dares to say the disillusion was not 
a work of prayer? 

Dozens of times had the heedless Lawrence looked 
on his beautiful but vulgar Trixy and saw nothing to dis- 
illusion him, countless hours he had watched her smoking 
cigarettes, aye and kissed her full lips slightly tinged 
with the die of tobacco, and, yet, was not shocked. But 
one evening at a late supper at Shanley’s, together with 
girls of her class, not bad but vulgar, shrewd and worldly, 
the psychological moment came (why not the hour of 
Communion of Saints) and Lawrence, standing up told 
her in the presence of her friends ; that it was a draw, he 
was tired of this kind of living, and he was going to quit. 
Loud laughter first greeted him, then stinging sarcasm; 
hut listening to it all, with a quiet dignity, he bade them 
good night, as he said, for “keeps,” and “keeps” it was. 

Loretta wondered one evening when the Gibbons’ 
home saw the absentee at dinner, wondered still more, 
when asking her permission to smoke, he sat down on a 
lounge and commanded her to play for him. Delighted 
beyond expression, Loretta flew to the piano, played and 
sang until her brother, getting into the spirit of the thing 
joined in the singing. 


Ill 


It was on this domestic scene Mr. Sibley walked, 
with a “Well I’ll be hanged — ” 

“Oh no you won’t, Leo, you wouldn’t be so foolish,” 
grinned Lawrence. “Sit down and make yourself hap- 
py. ’ ’ And happy they were, and when an hour after Kate 
and John Russell, with Mr. Gibbons, joined them, a hap- 
pier crowd would be hard to find. 

At the close of the evening, Mr. Gibbons, having to 
attend to business, had left them early, Lawrence escorted 
Kate and John to the hall door; leaving, for one brief 
moment, Mr. Sibley alone with Loretta. 

“Mr. Sibley,” delightedly asked Loretta, her beauti- 
ful face aglow, “what does it mean? Has our blessed 
Mother heard?” 

“I don’t understand it Loretta. He may be tired and 
just stayed in for this evening.” 

“Oh no, before you came he made me understand he 
was going to learn duets with me. That looks — ” her 
eyes questioned his. 

“Why, yes, that looks good to me,” he smiled a very 
tender smile and then grew deathly pale. 

“Oh my dear friend, what is it?” she earnestly asked. 

“Nothing Loretta, just a passing pain.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, you should be careful, perhaps you are working 
too hard,” her manner was kind and eager. He turned 
abruptly, bade her goodnight almost rudely and going 
out staggered. 

“Hello Leo! old boy. What’s up? Good heaven man! 
What ails you?” cried Lawrence. 

“Nothing,” said Mr. Sibley and lunged into the dark- 
ness. 

“Lawrence,” eagerly asked Loretta, “is he sick?” 
Giving her a keen look of appraisal not unlike his father’s 


112 


and satisfied that his sister was innocent of the real reason 
of Leo Sibley’s sickness, Lawrence said with more feeling 
than it was customary for him to show, 

“Poor Leo! Poor old boy.” 

For three or four evenings, preceding the candy pull, 
Lawrence spent them, to the delight of Loretta, at home, 
with herself and her father. So quiet, so changed was he, 
that Mr. Gibbons took occasion, while Loretta and he 
were having their early breakfast alone, to ask her what 
she thought was the matter with Lawrence. 

“Nothing, papa, — only the elfect of prayer.” He 
looked puzzled. 

“You mean he is praying?” 

“No, dear, when he begins, then we may stop.” 

“ We ? I don ’t understand. ’ ’ 

“Father,” said she, with intense eagerness, “you be- 
lieve in the Bible?” He nodded. “Well, that Holy Book 
tells ‘when two or three are gathered together in MY 
Name, I am in their midst, ’ and Father Dusette, his teach- 
er you know. Nurse, Sister Ambrose, Kate and myself, are 
all praying for Lawrence.” 

“Kate, you say? Why she’s no Catholic; what has 
she got to do with it,” asked he in very evident interest. 
Loretta in her eagerness had almost betrayed Kate’s 
secret, it embarrassed her, all the more as Mr. Gibbons 
seemed studying her. 

“Why — why — you don’t have to be a Catholic to 
pray, you know.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, you don ’t ? I was thinking you Catholics had a 
monopoly on the article, kind of trust, you know. Where 
the big guns, the monopolists, like the priests and sisters 
got the biggest part of the dough and the — ” 

“Father, don’t.” 


113 


“Don’t what?” 

“Make fun of prayer,” she begged earnestly. 

“Lord bless you child, I wasn’t thinking of such a 
thing. I was just poking fun at you. But you said when 
Lawrence began to pray, the crowd would stop — what do 
you mean by that?” 

“Simply this, dear, others can form together to make 
as it were, a chain of prayer, the friends on earth, the 
saints in Heaven and the souls in Purgatory.” In answer 
to a look of inquiry, “Purgatory is a place of fire where, 
after death, those stained by faults are washed clean — and 
this chain of prayer is the Communion of Saints.” 

“Humph, very pretty idea, that chain,” deep thought, 
“but say, washed from faults, by George, it looks like a 
tough proposition for us unwashed fellows. Well when 
Lawrence goes it alone, the rest of you leave him ? ’ ’ 

She laughed, and running to him caught his big head 
in her arms and tumbled his hair, very much to his satis- 
faction. Then stooping, close to his ear, she whispered, 

“When one begins to pray for one’s self, he is on the 
right road, and don’t need so much help.” 

She kissed him and left him to his thoughts. Long he 
thought and when at length the problem became too deep 
for him to solve, he picked up “Paradise Lost,” which 
Lawrence had left on a side table, and read where Adam 
entertained an angel unawares. ‘ ‘ Hanged if I don ’t think 
I am entertaining an angel. Did the teaching of the nuns 
make her what she is? Certainly she didn’t get religion 
from me. Her mother was a sister’s girl too. I believe 
she would give her eyes if I got religion. Wished I had.” 

And Lawrence ? Something was working in him. 
Spoiled, petted, made selfish and thoughtless by educa- 
tion and environment, he had more than the ordinary 

114 


young man’s share of conceit and self righteousness. His 
sudden break with Trixy on his disillusionment filled him 
with disgust with himself; he had been making a fool of 
himself with a woman coarse and vulgar, others must 
often have seen her, as he did the night of the break. Was 
he vulgar too? “Ah gee, there is something rotten.” 
And it was during this revulsion of spirit he gladdened 
Loretta’s heart; though had she understood, that his ap- 
parent conversion was disgust of himself, she might not 
have been so jubilant. 

She longed to tell Mr. Sibley the good news; and 
wondered why he did not come to see them. Not a night 
passed that Leo Sibley did not keep tryst outside the 
house. Standing in its shadow on the opposite side of the 
street — he watched her as she moved round the brilliantly 
lighted parlor or sat in thought facing the uncurtained 
window. Could she have seen him, his fine eyes full of the 
fire of the purest passion that can dominate a man, the 
pure love for a pure woman; could she have seen those 
same lovelit eyes dimmed with tears of sorrow, could she 
have noted the anguish of his face; — childlike, as was her 
character, she would have been woman enough to have 
realized fully that Leo Sibley loved her with a strong 
despairing love. But happily for her peace of mind, she 
did not see him, and did not know. 


115 


CHAPTER XX 

THE CANDY PULL 

In the small but dainty kitchen of the Harcourt house 
a very select crowd of eligible bachelors, with a sprinkling 
of young girls, was learning from a grave young woman, 
Molly Donaghue, Mrs. HarcourUs wonderful cook and 
general housekeeper (the latter fact was not generally 
known), the intricacies of candy making. 

Molly, besides being an adept at the art of cooking, 
was a dignified teacher. Her quiet assumption of knowl- 
edge, her practical way of her presentation of her sub- 
ject, impressed her heedless crowd of students and stimu- 
lated an ardent desire to achieve individual perfection in 
the culinary art. 

‘'Mr. Gibbons, don’t chop that way. Hold the beater 
so,” adjusting the egg-beater, in his beautiful, but at that 
employment, awkward hands. ‘ ‘ Miss Brown, not one drop 
of yolk must mix with the white. Miss Kate, please don’t 
put that thermometer in that ice cold water, right out of 
that intense heat. Have more sense. Mrs. Harcourt, Mr. 
Gray is chopping nut shells in with the kernels. Please 
roll those stuffed dates lightly. Miss Laighton, in that 
powdered sugar ; see, you have pressed them out of shape. 
Mr. Wilkins if you don’t stop eating those brandied 
cherries, we won’t have enough for the candy. Take this 
dish outside, Mr. Dixon and Miss Mary, and pull it; it’s 
too hot in here, ’ ’ and so quickly speeding from one to the 
other, Molly with dignified decision made order exist 
in chaos. All anxious to do right, spoke little, until Law- 
rence, wearying of his task held the egg-beater aloft and 

116 


asked/ ‘Say, where the dickens is Sibley? Didn’t yon in- 
vite him Mrs. Harcourt?” 

Invite Mr. Sibley ; yon do not suppose Lawrence, I 
would forget so charming a gentleman?” 

‘ ‘ Why isn ’t he here then ? What ’s that Molly ? Great 
Scott, I forgot the suds.” Whack went the beater. 

“Mr. Gibbons, you’ll make those whites rough. Do it 
this way. ’Deed I wish Mr. Sibley were here. He’d learn 
quicker than you,” said Molly out of patience with the 
erratic Lawrence. 

“He would, would he?” in a tone of pique, “you seem 
to think a heap of Mr. Sibley, Molly. ’ ’ 

“I do. He’s a gentleman if ever there was one,” 
quietly answered Molly energetically beating some fudge. 
“Here, Mr. Gibbons, let those whites drop in slowly — 
slowly — Good gracious! Don’t you know what slow is?” 
Molly was slightly exasperated. 

“Molly,” corrected Mrs. Harcourt in a cold tone. 

“She’s all right,” laughed Lawrence, interested for 
once in his life in a really natural woman. Molly, without 
being pretty had a complexion of health, and except when 
her naturally quick temper dominated her, the poise and 
dignity of virtue. The fact that Molly, the cook, paid him, 
the rich man’s son, no more deference than she did the 
other jmung men, seemed not to be bothering herself 
about him at all, had its own attraction for Lawrence. 
Anxious to make her talk, for Molly then showed teeth 
and dimples, Lawtence asked her why she thought Mr. 
Sibley such a gentleman. 

“Wait, Mr. Gibbons, till I see how they are pulling 
that candy,” running out as she spoke, but soon reappear- 
ing with some apples which she gave to a couple of gentle- 

117 


men with the drections to peel them thin, she rejoined 
Lawrence saying, 

“Mr. Sibley is a gentleman; because he forgets him- 
self in thinking about others.” 

“Oh! he does, does he? Illustrate.” 

“Illustrate?” echoed Molly. 

“Yes, show me, give me an example of his thought 
for others. Stir this did you say? Ouch! that burnt a 
hole in my hand.” 

Molly laughed, as she quietly answered with a twinkle 
of humor in her honest eyes, ‘ ‘ I have seen Mr. Sibley bow 
to a poor, ragged girl ; and I saw him help a wash woman 
carry her basket across the street.” 

‘ ‘ Help a washerwoman with her basket ? Humph. Al- 
low me, Molly. ’ ’ Lawrence jumped to her side and caught 
with her the pot handle of a pot of candy and adroitly 
placed it in the sink, while Molly with her humorous smile 
thanking him, passed to another group. 

“Loretta,” whispered Kate, they were sorting nuts 
at a small table by themselves, “did you see what Law- 
rence did ? ” 

“No.” 

“I hope to goodness he will let our cook alone. He 
was helping her with that big pot.” 

“Why, what of that, Kate?” asked Loretta. 

‘ ‘ Oh, nothing — but you know he is as handsome as a 
young god. He has no business talking to a poor girl, 
putting notions in her head.” 

‘ ‘ Who is she, Kate ? She seems a nice girl. ’ ^ 

“She is a nice girl; worth her weight in gold; she’s 
about twenty-three I believe, for we’ve had her over three 
years and she was then some time from school. You know 
she graduated from the eighth grade in the Parochial 


118 


School ; Sisters of Charity, I believe the teachers are. Oh, 
they know how to teach. Cooking? No, she took a course 
in that. She does not have to work now. Her father and 
brothers are plumbers. Men of that trade are New York’s 
future millionaires. ’ ’ 

“Wliy is she working?” asked Loretta with inter- 
est. 

“That’s just what we are in daily dread of — her 
leaving us. When she came to us on the Sisters’ recom- 
mendation, her father had been sick a year and was un- 
ale to work; so she thought she should help; now the 
father and boys are making money, they want her home. 
Time for supper Molly? Very well — everybody listen. 
We are going to have supper here. The gentlemen will sit 
around the wall and watch the ladies set the table. No, 
boys, keep your aprons on : because after supper you are 
going to wash the dishes. Lawrence, behave. Go sit down 
over there. No, Molly does not need you ; you are in her 
way. ’ ’ 

All present voted the supper delicious and the set- 
ting unique ; and when Lawrence enthusiastically de- 
clared he could live and die in a kitchen, there was a 
general laugh ; at the hush of which, Mrs. Harcourt, 
beaming with the thought of coming triumph, rose and 
reminded all present that her private ball was not to be 
forgotten. 

“Mrs. Harcourt, this evening has been far more comfy 
than a big formal ball. I vote the ball be knocked off 
the list ; and another grand candy pull be put in its place,” 
gaily cried a husky young multi-millionaire. 

Mrs. Harcourt beamed graciously at him, when Kate 
enthusiastically endorsing his suggestion, cried, 

“Oh ma, let’s forget that ball,” her mother’s face 
119 


clouded. ‘‘The invitations are all written’’, said Mrs. 
Harcourt decidely. 

‘ ‘ Throw them in the waste basket, Sib and I will write 
some more,” gaily announced Lawrence. 

“No ball, no ball,” echoed all, going as the modern 
crowd usually does, towards anything new. 

Mrs. Harcourt was evidently displeased. 

“My friends there is no reason for canceling the 
date of the hall. ’Tis hired and then too, there is no reason 
why we should not have a second candy pull. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Mrs. Harcourt, if Molly could come over and super- 
intend another at our house, I am sure father would be 
delighted to have you all; say, next week.” The speaker 
was Loretta, Lawrence grinned his appreciation. His 
sister believed this second candy pull would be an added 
home attraction and so suggested it. Kate looked her 
surprise. Mrs. Harcourt by strength of will had con- 
quered all appearance of displeasure, and answered 
genially, 

“Loretta, I should be delighted to lend Molly as T 
know she will enjoy going, but not, dear heart, till after 
the ball.” And so it was settled. 


120 


CHAPTER XXI 

A SOUL’S STRUGGLE 

Two men were seated in Father Diisette’s narrow 
room. Father Dusette’s face wore his most spiritual ex- 
pression, his whole being seemed to radiate paternal love, 
while poor Leo Sibley’s intense anguish illustrated the 
soul in conflict. 

They sat long in silence, till Father Dusette, who 
seemed to wait for something said gently, 

‘‘Well, Leo, well my son, — ” 

“Father, — apart from that short period — of gambl- 
ing, which I went into to save my mother’s life, — yon 
know she died nearly two years ago,” the priest nodded. 
Mr. Sibley seemed to choke, but with an effort went on, 
“Even in that, I never fleeced a poor man. I never even 
cheated. Father. ’ ’ 

“I know, my son. Go on.” 

‘ ‘ I loved pleasure, and had it ; but Father, I was never 
dishonorable in my dealings with man or woman — ” 

“Yes?” a long pause, then a burst of passion from 
Mr. Sibley. 

“With God, no — I was not fair to Him, — I did no 
deliberate evil.” 

“Leo,” Father Dusette’s voice was low, but the in- 
sistent ring in it startled the young man and he moved 
restlessly. 

“I ceased to he a Catholic.” 

“And that was no evil, Leo!” 

“ ’Twas better than being half a Catholic, Father,” 
insisted the other. 


121 


‘ ‘ If that were true then, why is it not true now ? ’ ’ 
asked the priest. The two looked each other through. 
Mr. Sibley laughed nervously. 

‘‘Environments change conditions, Father.” 

“Leo, be true — come across, my son, come across.” 

“She told me to come back.” Mr. Sibley’s voice was 
low and passionate. 

“Coming back means what, my son? A half Catholic 
or a whole Catholic?” 

Mr. Sibley’s eyes burned black; his hands gripped the 
chair, his tongue wet his fevered lips as he answered 
hoarsely, 

“My God! a whole one. Father.” 

Springing from his chair. Father Dusette, throwing 
his arm around the other’s shoulder, strained him to him 
and joyously said, 

“Thank God, my son, thank God. Now kneel down 
and make your peace with God. Wait till I get my stole. 
There, that’s right, lad, right here at my knee, courage.” 

The long confession, interrupted by many a dry sob, 
was ended and Mr. Sibley’s face wore a spiritual beauty 
unknown to it for years. 

“Now remember, my son, never again.” 

“Just once. Father, just once,” he pleaded. “The 
ball.” 

“There is danger there, Leo — ” 

“You do not trust me, father?” his manner was pa- 
thetic. Father Dusette, a most severe ascetic towards him- 
self — was the tenderest of man in his dealings with sin- 
ners. Catching the other’s hand, he answered warmly, 

“Trust you, my son? In dealing with Loretta you 
have been a Bayard in honor. ’Twas yourself I wished to 
spare. Once again will be added torture.” 

122 


Mr. Sibley radiated joy as he enthusiastically cried, 
“Torture? Aye the rack, but I’d gladly go through 
it, to gaze on her beautiful face once more. See as a 
future pledge, I leave you this. I stole that from Law- 
rence. Give it back to him. Father. Good night.” 

And Father Dusette was left alone with Loretta’s 
angelic face smiling at him from the photograph in his 
hand. Long the priest looked at the beautiful face, then 
putting the picture carefully in a drawer, threw himself 
on his knees before Our Lord in the Garden and prayed. 

“Oh Christ, my Lord, I thank you for that product 
of Convent teaching, that convent girl. She has brought 
back to you a sinner, a sinner — but a man, a martyr. 
God, my God, give him strength, flood his poor heart, 
broken with sorrow, with the consolations of your grace.” 

That night as Leo Sibley knelt beside his bed, in pray- 
er, he wondered where his happiness, his exaltation of 
spirit came from. He had not deserved it, he knew, but 
with deep humility he thanked God for the gift of conso- 
lation which poured into his soul. 


123 


CHAPTER XXII 

LAWRENCE LEARNS THE ART OF 
BEING A GENTLEMAN 

In the few weeks that intervened between the candy 
pull and the ball many a household was busy — busy with 
the momentous question of dress for Mrs. Harcourt’s so- 
called private ball, the feature of the season ; but a certain 
young man without being troubled on the question of his 
attire was the busiest of the invited list. Lawrence Gib- 
bons, a couple days following the Harcourt’s kitchen 
party, was strolling home from a dance in the early morn- 
ing. Having danced all night till he had brought on a 
nervous headache, he wisely concluded a cold walk might 
better things, as it would give him time for what he rare- 
ly had — an interval of retrospection. 

‘‘Well! I have been a consummate fool dancing till 
I have not a leg to stand on. Gee, what is the use of it 
anyway. Can’t a fellow have have a good time in modera- 
tion. Why the dickens didn’t I stop at a decent hour? 
Why? Because they would not let me, the girls. What 
kind of girls were they — young girls, bony and skinny, 
and showing their bones, too; young girls round and 
plump — they did not go behind the door either to hide 
their charms — and fat old women, ugh I so ugly, all dolled 
up, good dancers though, gee! Mrs. Dickinson dances 
better than her daughters — if she wouldn’t paint — but 
didn ’t they all paint ? ’ ’ 

A vision of Loretta ’s fresh beauty flashed before him, 
he shook his head. “No Lorettas there last night, not by 
a long shot. What’s the matter with the women anyhow? 

121 


Oh, I beg your pardon.” This apology was confusedly 
offered to a young woman carrying a big basket of veg- 
etables, into whom he had unseeingly ran. He stooped to 
pick up lettuce and onions, while she tartly asked him if 
he were blind. 

“No, I don’t think I am, though nearly blind from 
want of sleep. Say, what the — Why it is Molly,” cried 
Lawrence, suddenly waking up to the fact that a very 
much alive and daintily, neat, young woman was regard- 
ing him with manifest disfavor. 

“What’s left of me Mr. Gibbons. Why don’t you 
look where you are going?” Lawrence chuckled. No 
woman with exception of nurse Nellie ever addressed 
him in such brusque tones. 

“Well to tell the honest truth, Mollie, I didn’t see 
where I was going. Here, give it here ! Yes, I am going 
to carry it. Shucks ! I guess I have as much right to carry 
a vegetable basket as Sibley has to carry an old woman’s' 
laundry basket. No, I am going to carry this and that is 
the end of it.” A very dignified, displeased young woman 
walked beside him. Again Lawrence chuckled almost 
audibly. A little bit of temper improved Mollie ’s looks. 
They walked a block in silence, then she stopped and said 
in a most decided tone, 

“Give it to me please Mr. Gibbons.” Her persistency 
made him impatient. 

“Look here, Mollie, I’m trying to be a gentleman, 
you won’t let me.” The faintest glimmer of a smile em- 
boldened him to ask, 

“Now, if Sibley were to carry this you would let him, 
wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes,” she answered promptly. 

125 


“Well, look at that will you. What’s the differ- 
ence?” 

“A good bit Mr. Gibbons. Mr. Sibley does those things 
without thinking while you — ” 

“Yes, while I, — go on.” 

“Do it just because of the mood you are in.” He was 
startled. Her shrewdness seemed uncanny. Laughing 
boyishly, he said, 

“Say, look here, Mollie, if a fellow, no matter what 
his mood is, tries to do the decent thing, let him do it. 
Gee! this is heav}^ Why do you carry it, why don’t you 
have it delivered? 

Understanding the boy in Lawrence, she quietly an- 
swered, 

“Because I know if I carry home the vegetables I 
pick out I will be more sure of getting them.” 

“Oh,” he looked down at her in admiration, noting 
how erect she carried herself, how devoid of all self 
consciousness — how clear her complexion ; and unwitting- 
ly he compared her personality with the shallow girls with 
whom he had danced the night away. 

They walked in silence, then Lawrence ventured 
again, 

“Do you have to work, Mollie?” 

“Mr. Gibbons, we will not discuss my affairs, if you 
please.” 

“Gee! she’s a regular tartar.” He saw neither the 
tremble of the mouth nor the sparkle in her eye, but after 
that snub he did not try again to engage her in conver- 
sation. The Harcourt’s house being reached he handed 
her the basket with a dignified bow to which she respond- 
ed with an icy “Thank you.” Could he have seen her a 

126 


moment after, doubled up with laughter he might indeed 
have been indignant. 

Kate coming suddenly into the kitchen stood in silent 
surprise. ‘‘What in the world is the matter with you 
Mollie, what are you laughing at.” 

“Nothing, Miss Kate, just thinking, but what brings 
you down so early?” 

“Oh Mollie, get some hot coffee ready as soon as 
you can, make it black, riia has had such an attack! 
I wish that old ball was in Halifax I I am sure she will 
be sick before it is over.” 

‘ ‘ Dear me, dear me, ’ ’ cried Mollie in quick sympathy, 
“we must keep her in bed today.” 

‘ ‘ Easier said than done, Mollie ; you will bring it up 
when it is ready?” For economic reasons the Harcourt’s 
help consisted of Mollie, with two extra maids coming for 
a couple of hours in the morning and after meals, so as to 
impress the outside world. 

To Kate, anxiously studying the doctrine of a church 
in which she fully believed, every moment was precious. 
This short, but not slight sickness of her mother, the 
preparation for the ball; the dread of her mother’s 
awakening, when she learned of John Russell’s relations 
toward her daughter; all combined to make Kate a very 
apprehensive young woman. When somewhat later in the 
day Mollie called her out of the darkened sick room to 
meet John Russell, Kate was truly relieved. 

“Oh, John, how glad I am to see you, sit down and 
tell me why you came now.” 

“No, Kate, no sitting for me, Teddie is taking a party 
down to Panama and the Boss deputed me with another 
chap to go down with him and write up proceedings. ’Tis 
a big scoop, but it means absence from you, I won’t be 

127 


here for the ball, but it is a big thing ! Things are coming 
my way, it means a few more dollars towards the little 
home.” He fondly looked at her; and Kate, the brave of 
heart, gave him what he was looking for, enthusiastic ap- 
preciation. 

‘‘Of course, things are coming your way, you dear! 
Why John it is miraculous, even my conversion.” 

John laughed, “Almost too much so, Kate. Remem- 
ber I want you a regular dyed-in-the-wool Catholic. No 
half measures for me. Study hard, my girl — because in 
these pagan days a Catholic has to fight. Why, bless you 
’tis a wonder I have a whole bone in my skin, you ought 
to hear the arguments I have to put up daily — and my 
wife — ” he stopped, and looked so fondly at Kate that 
she hid her head on his shoulder. A swift change of ex- 
pression ; and Kate looked up to see a man gazing at her 
with tender, humble reverence, he finished, “she won’t 
have to fight because she will convince without fighting. ^ 
Well, good-bye, Kate, pray hard till I come back.” She 
kept up till the door closed on him, then throwing herself 
on a lounge and burying her head in the pillows, Kate 
sobbed heart brokenly. “How would it end.” In this 
paroxysm of grief Mollie, the sympathetic, found her. 

‘ ‘ Miss Kate, darling, what is it, was that your young 
man ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, Mollie, that is my young man.” 

“Dear me, I am so glad, he is a fine one.” 

“Yes, Mollie, he is a man in a thousand, hut he is a 
poor man, and — ” 

“A Catholic,” suggested Mollie. 

“Yes, a Catholic. I am studying.” 

Mollie clasped her hands delightedly. 

“Thanks be to God, never a day passes but I pray for 
123 


you and your mother’s conversion.” Kate was deeply 
touched. What a wonderful Church she was going to join, 
what a grand democracy, servant and mistress united in 
one bond of prayer. She kissed Mollie who glowed with 
delight. 

“And your young man, Mollie.” Mollie ’s laugh was 
care free. “I have no man, except my father and broth- 
ers, but Miss Kate, if I ever do get one, you may be sure, 
he will be a Catholic.” 


129 


CHAPTER XXIII 
WHERE IS MR. SIBLEY? 

Not knowing positively that Lawrence had broken 
with Trixy, whenever he was absent of an evening, Loretta 
was filled with apprehension; then too, Mr. Sibley, on 
whom she depended for information, had for some unac- 
countable reason absented himself from the Gibbons 
home. Determined to find out if possible from her 
father, what was the matter with Mr. Sibley, Loretta was 
not a little surprised one evening after her father’s greet- 
ing, to hear him ask, ‘‘Larry home? He isn’t? Pshaw. Per- 
haps, you know, Loretta, where Mr. Sibley keeps him- 
self.” 

“Mr. Sibley, father?” 

“Yes, I have need of someone on whom I can rely, 
I want a man to go across to Paris on some important 
business and I can’t get it out of my head but that Leo 
Sibley is the man. You don’t know where he puts up? 
Well, well.” 

“Why not send Lawrence, father.” 

‘ ‘ Who, Larry ? That scatter brain ? Why he would spill 
the beans. Oh, no, that is out of the question. I want a 
man that holds his trap. I wish I could find him. I guess 
I will have to go out again, girlie. I will put a detective 
on him. What’s that? hurt his feelings, hurt nothing! 
There is money in it. That is the reason I want him. Lo- 
retta, the more I see of that chap the more I like him. 
There is stuff there. ’ ’ He kissed her and then as if struck 
by her wild rose beauty, held her off from him. 


130 


‘ ‘ Say, child, if you ever lose that ; you will never make 
use of an artificial one.’^ 

Loretta was horrified. ‘‘You mean paint, father, why I 
would not think of such a thing! A child of Mary^ 
wouldn ’t stoop to do such a deceitful act. ’ ’ 

He grinned. “Who taught you that, the nuns? Well 
that is one to their credit.” 

“Only one, father?” 

“Oh, ONE added to the rest,” he laughed, “Loretta, 

I believe sometimes when I see our American women, 
young and old, fixed up like so many vaudeville actresses, 

I could run to some desert island; if it was not I have a 
dear little natural woman waiting for me at home. A man 
gets disgusted; if it isn’t paint, it is powder so thick you 
could scrape it off or it is a display of bony anatomy or 
two legs in one trouser leg. I, I — ” but Loretta laughed, 
clapped a plump little hand over his mouth and merrily 
choked him off. 

“Now be good, papa, if you don’t like the women 
don’t look at them.” 

“Look at them,” he good naturedly growled, “why 
I have all I can do from falling over them, they are every- 
where — everywhere — but at home. Lord, I don’t wonder 
the men get divorces. Why! if I had such women in my 
households I’d, I’d — choke them. Good-bye,” he laughed. 

Lawrence coming in shortly after, Loretta put the 
momentous question of Mr. Sibley’s whereabouts to him. 

“Seen Sib. You bet I did, I saw too much of his con- 
founded cheek, damn him!” 

“Oh, Larry, don’t talk that way about him.” 

“Say, you seem mighty interested in him. Great 
Scott — ” a sudden suspicion becoming apparent, “Lo- 


131 


retta, you have not been putting Leo on my track?’’ 
Lawrence in anger looked ugly. Loretta trembled. 

''Why do you ask such a question, Larry?” 

"Because he has been trying to pump me about 
Trixy; and when I got infernally mad, and told him to 
mind his own business, he sweetly said that it was his 
business to see that I didn’t torment you. Cheeky, wasn’t 
it? Well, I sent him where he belonged and told him I 
did not care a hang about Trixy or any of her high kick- 
ers. What’s the ecstacy for? that’s just the way that 
long legged Sib acted. Look here ! I wish you two would 
realize I’m old enough to take care of myself.” And with 
that parting benediction Larry sped up two steps at a 
time to his room. Once there he sat in deep thought 
wrinkling his handsome forehead, struggling with some 
weighty problem till satisfied he had found the solution 
he tore down to the parlor where he found his sister sit- 
ting in pensive thought, and greeting her as if nothing 
had happened to mar their harmony, he asked, 

"Loretta, there was a book in mother’s little book- 
case, it’s gone now.” (The rogue had seen Loretta hand- 
ing it to Kate a short time back.) "It was 'The Mother’s 
Belief,’ I think, Loretta.” 

"The Mother’s Belief, you say Larry? I never saw 
such a book; was it a pious one?” 

"Yes, it was among her prayer books. I believe it was 
'The Mother’s Faith’.” 

"You don’t mean ‘Faith of Our Fathers’, Lawrence? 
Yes? oh, I gave that to Kate.” Loretta stopped confused- 
ly as she realized Kate’s study of the Catholic religion 
was a secret — Lawrence too deeply interested in his own 
scheme did not notice his sister’s slip. 

132 


‘ ‘ So she has it, has she ? Oh, well I will just drop down 
there tomorrow and take a look at it.” 

‘'Oh, Lawrence,” beamed Loretta, “you are going to 
look up the doctrine of your Church, how grand ! ’ ’ He 
had the grace to grin shame facedly and then chuckling 
at the success of his plan went again to his room. He 
was a strange compound, this heedless son of wealth. 
Wildly gay as the mood swayed him, there were times 
when nothing, but the reading of a fine classic satisfied 
him ; and this was one of the moments of literary cravings. 
He pulled book after book out of his case till his hand 
rested on Sheehan’s “Under the Stars and Cedars.” 
“Strange,” he muttered, I never saw that before, I bet 
she put it there, well ! if it is pious I will chuck it in the 
waste basket.” 

Lighting a cigar, putting his feet on the mantle and 
tilting his chair to the proper angle, he read. Morning 
surprised him at his occupation, and then letting his chair 
down with a bang, throwing the alluring book on the bed, 
stretching his arms in a mighty yawn, he said to himself, 
“Some writer, that Sheehan, makes a fellow ashamed of 
his lazy life,” and tumbled into bed while his sister slept 
the sleep of a grateful devotee after thanking God that 
her beloved brother was going to study the Faith of our 
Fathers. 

And where, was Mr. Sibley ? He was standing in the 
early morning in a rich apartment facing a wild-eyed 
woman in costly dishabille. 

“You sent for me, Mildred?” His voice and manner 
were cold. 

“Yes, Leo, I sent for you, I am wild with despair. 
Bobby is dying. Of what good is wealth to me now ? ’ ’ 

133 


‘‘You bovight it, that was your bargain,” he an- 
swered gently but coldly. 

“My God, Leo, don’t you understand, don’t you 
hear? Bobby, my beautiful one, is dying.” 

“I hear and understand, Mildred, but what can 
Ido?” 

“What can you do?” she asked passionately; the 
wreck of a once beautiful woman, still young, but with 
lines on her face that were hard and worldly. ‘ ‘ What can 
you not do, Leo Sibley? Come,” she grasped his arm with 
frenzied strength and half pulled him across the room into 
an adjoining one. “See,” her tone was intensely scornful 
as she pointed to a large and heavy-set man lying face 
downward on the rich rug — the very laxness of the out- 
lines of the big body told plainly the story of animal in- 
toxication. “See, you can take me from this, from that 
brute.” She had gone so close to the body that the edge 
of her elegant kimona touched it; and with intense loath- 
ing she plucked away the garment. The motion and scorn 
were not lost on Mr. Sibley. His face grew stern and his 
voice rang with something, she knew not what. 

‘ ‘ Mildred, stop right here ; you are as responsible for 
THAT, as he is. He was not that way, when you married 
him. God when your death comes, will not only judge 
your soul ; but add to your burden, his evil life, in so far 
as you have been criminal in making it such.” 

She shrank from him. He continued. 

“I would not raise a finger to take you from him — 
but I would beg you to repent.” She regained her scorn- 
ful attitude. 

“Repent with him. No sir.” Mr. Sibley seemed startled 
by some inward thought, he turned to leave her when a 
maid rushing into the room called. 


134 


“Come quickly, he is going,” With a cry of a wounded 
animal the woman rushed after the maid into a smaller 
apartment where on a little cot in the last struggle for life 
lay a small boy. The mother frantically picked up the 
child and crushed it to her heart. “No, I won’t give him 
up. He has never committed sin. Oh, God you have no 
right to take him, Ella, get the doctors, do something.” 
The girl sadly shook her head while the mother distraught 
with agony paced up and down clutching the boy tight 
to her. A horrible possibility made Leo Sibley step 
quickly to her side and with strong but gentle hands un- 
clasped her rigid grip. One glance was enough — a pierc- 
ing scream, and the heart-broken mother fell heavily to 
the floor. Placing her with the maid’s help on a lounge 
nearby, and the dead child in his cot, giving the girl his 
boarding house address, Leo Sibley with drawn lines of 
sorrow on his face left the room. 


135 


CHAPTER XXIV 

LAWRENCE GROWS IN DIPLOMACY 

The next morning as trim Mollie Donaghue struggled 
under a big basket of garden stuff she heard someone 
back of her coming on a run, heard the panting breath, 
and the aspirated ‘'Mollie'’ and turning saw Lawrence 
at his best; tumbled curls, glowing cheeks, brilliant eyes, 
and flashing teeth ; for an instant, the quiet girl was taken 
off her guard ; ’twas seldom she looked at such perfection 
of form and feature. Delighted at her unconscious inter- 
est Lawrence pulled off his hat in a sweeping bow and 
stuttered off a seemingly important message. “My sister, 
Mollie, wants me to get a book from Miss Harcourt, she 
lent it to her you know.” After the first suddenness of 
surprise Mollie was herself again, cold, shrewd, and un- 
sympathetic. 

“It is mighty early in the morning she is sending 
for a hook.” For a brief second the rogue was non- 
plussed ; hut quickly recovering his wits he explained, 

“Not early for my sister, you know, she goes to St. 
Ignatius’ for early Mass. I’m to meet her with the book.” 

Mollie tried to read him; hut the handsome face was 
inscrutable. The story seemed plausible, so she reluctantly 
allowed him to take the basket and walk home with her. 
To her astonishment, the bold fellow did not stop at the 
door, but following in her wake, entered the kitchen and 
seated himself uninvited. Mollie, at first inclined to be 
angry, allowed her sense of humor, a strong one, to get 
the better of her discretion and laughed aloud. Lawrence 
delightedly joined in. When both had finished, Mollie 

136 


asked seriously, ‘‘You don’t think Miss Harcourt is up 
this time in the morning, do you?” 

“Oh, no,” answered Lawrence easily, “I know she 
isn’t, but perhaps you could look where she keeps her 
books. I saw some in her sitting room.” 

Angered by his cool assumption, Mollie as cooly in- 
formed him she had to make the coffee and get breakfast 
ready. Not being at all anxious to meet Kate, fearing her 
keen glance of scrutiny, Lawrence rose quickly, told her 
with dignity, having no desire to inconvenience her, he 
would come again. “Bother take him,” thought Mollie, 
“what ails the fellow. Please watch that kettle that it 
don’t boil over and I will go up and see. What’s the 
name? ‘Faith of Our Fathers’?” 

Left alone Lawrence chuckled delightedly, and hav- 
ing often watched Nurse make the coffee at the breakfast 
table in the percolator he, as soon as the kettle boiled, 
which was at the psychological moment of Mollie ’s depart- 
ure, finding the ground coffee at hand, poured the boil- 
ing water on it and then set close to it to watch the result. 
Mollie coming down stairs attracted by the delicious 
aroma of made coffee flew into the kitchen. “The kettle 
boiled, Mollie, and I thought I had better make the 
coffee,” grinned Lawrence. A desperate effort at stern 
dignity and Mollie again succumbed. 

Lawrence grinned delightedly. 

“I suppose,’ she laughingly said, “you’ll want a cup 
of coffee next?” 

“Exactly what I want, Mollie. How did you think 
of it?” The cup of coffee naturally suggested one of 
Mollie ’s delicious rolls. While slowly disposing of his 
frugal breakfast Lawrence, in an easy manner asked, 

137 


“Mollie, do you happen to know our name, Gibbons, 
is Irish 

‘ ‘ Irish ? Of course it is, as Irish as Donaghue ; that is 
if Donaghue is spelled with a ‘g’,” explained Mollie, 

“Spelled with 'G’V’ innocently echoed Lawrence. 
“Why I thought it was spelled with a ‘D’.” 

‘ ‘ For a smart man you are slightly obtuse, ’ ’ acidly re- 
marked Mollie. 

Having accomplished more than he had planned on, 
Lawrence rose and bowed himself out of the kitchen. 
Without exactly understanding her own mind on the 
subject, the girl did not tell Kate about her morning 
visitor. 


138 


CHAPTER XXV 

WHEN YOU DAILY MEET CHRIST 
YOU MEET A CROSS 

In Father Dusette’s little room strong passions were 
at work, passions that mar or make, passions that frus 
trate or further, passions that damn or sanctify. The 
fight eternal ; the material with the immaterial ; the finite 
with the infinite ; and the battlefield, in this instance, was 
Leo Sibley’s soul, and the combatants, it goes without 
saying, were himself and Father Dusette. 

“Leo I tell you you cannot dispose of that as careless- 
ly as you think. You cannot throw off responsibility as 
easily as you do your clothes.” 

“Father, Mildred Brown is not a responsibility of 
mine. She has her husband.” 

“Leo, did she not send for you?” 

“She did.” 

‘ ‘ Did she not ask you to take her from that drunken 
sot?” 

“She did. But Good God! Father, what have I got 
to do with her. She married for money — she paid the 
price.” His face was working with agony. 

“She sent for you, she appealed to you and events 
that come to us like that cannot be thrown aside — they 
are responsibilities and must he shouldered as such.” 

“In heaven’s name, what do you want me to do — 
haven’t I enough sorrow today without saddling myself 
with Mildred Brown. What can I do for her?” 

“ Go to her, help her with the funeral and afterwards 
139 


suggest to her to leave her life of sin and go into the 
Good Shepherd.” 

Leo Sibley blankly stared at the priest and then 
laughed a harsh, loud lough. “Life of sin! She’s all right 
in the eyes of the world. Do you want her husband to kill 
me 1 And the Good Shepherd ! Good God, Father, you 
haven’t the remotest idea of what kind of a woman Mil- 
dred is. Good Shepherd! Good heavens, you think she 
would go? I know she wouldn’t. She is not worth think- 
ing about.” 

“Leo you thought enough of the subject to lay it 
before me,” gently urged Father Dusette. 

“I came to you because I couldn’t get her terrible 
face out of my mind.” 

‘ ‘ Why ? Because that is something that has come into 
your life that must be dealt with. Grant she seems worth- 
less ; her body is — but her soul ? The soul for which Christ 
was crucified, that must be saved, or at least an effort 
put forth to save it. Living in a pagan world, we religious 
realize this is an era of modern paganism ; Leo Sibley you 
cannot and you dare not be a pagan. The essence of 
the principle of paganism is indifference to the wants, 
needs or sorrows of our neighbors. ‘That is none of my 
business’ is Paganism’s Slogan. ‘This is my wounded 
brother or sister, ’ is Christianity ’s watchword. Go to her, 
deal as tenderly with her as you would with Loretta — 
don ’t start my son. ’ ’ 

“God, Father! don’t couple their names.” 

“Just for a minute my son — go to Mildred Brown’s 
soul and save it as tenderly as you would Loretta’s if 
need be.” 

“Oh, Father, Father, I have tried so hard to do the 
right thing, it has almost killed me to hold back the burn- 


140 


ing words of love, not to touch her, not to show her. I 
have knelt at your feet in Confession. I have sworn never 
to look on her face again after that one time and — then 
comes this. Why does God treat me now as a reprobate?” 

The priest’s beautiful eyes gazed tenderly at him, 
rising he went to his desk, picked up Faber’s ‘At the Foot 
of the Cross,’ while Leo Sibley, as if fascinated by his 
strange silence, watched him with wildly fevered eyes 
till the passage sought for being found Father Dusette 
read, 

‘ ‘ Father Faber says, 

‘Would it not be an unproductive day in which 
we did not meet our Lord? We must rarely expect 
to meet Him, except with a Cross and that a new 
one. When we are in sorrow, He Himself draws 
neau and goes with us. That is the privilege of 
sorrow. We read the lives of holy persons and won- 
der how ever they can have attained to such a pitch 
of union with God, little suspecting all the while 
that we have sorrow enough to carry us further still 
then that, only we would not wait for Jesus. Why 
then are we so amazed when crosses come? What 
cross we shall meet today we know not, but we 
know if we meet Jesus, we will meet a Cross.’ 

Listen, Leo — 

Some men meet him and turn away. Some see 
Him far off and turn down another road. Some 
pass by pretending not to see Him.’ 

Leo, my son! Do you understand? Because you have 
turned in earnest to God, because you have promised to 
be a whole Catholic you are bound to meet Jesus. Now, 
Leo, answer my son. How must you meet him every day?” 

141 


A pause — then Leo with a face transfigured with 
God’s glory said, 

‘With a Cross, Father. A Cross. I understand; I 
shall go to her and then come back to you and tell you 
the results. Before I go,” he said with his radiant smile, 
“tell me, is our Lord meeting me in this? Mr. Gibbons, 
anxious to send a trustworthy agent to France, begs me 
to take the commission.” 

Father Dusette was radiant, “You ask me is our 
Lord in that? He is showing you the way. Leo take the 
offer, forget the heart wrench and go — when?” 

Leo smiled again, this time a spice of mischief in his 
smile, “After the ball. Father.” 


142 


CHAPTER XXVI 

LAWRENCE GETS INTERESTED IN POLITICS 
AND PLUMBERS 

That afternoon, Nurse walking unannounced into 
Lawrence’s room found him busily engaged in studying 
the big telephone directory. For some time past, Nurse’s 
motherly heart had been racked with anxiety. She had, 
unconscious to herself been looking at Lawrence through 
the vision of others ; his father ’s oft repeated disgust, Lo- 
retta ’s prayerful solicitude, and Kate’s openly expressed 
opinions were all taking root in that mother-heart. Not 
that she saw as yet, her idol was clay, but it hurt, that 
others touched lightly that which she still held in rever- 
ence. That Lawrence was idle, she would have been blind 
indeed not to see ; his idleness heretofore she had excused 
on the ground of work not being necessary, but Loretta’s 
oft repeated instructions of the nuns, on the sanctity, the 
nobility of labor worried the heart of Nurse. If she could 
only get Lawrence at some steady work, she would show 
the others their diagnosis of her darling was not correct. 
In this frame of mind noting his apparently idle occupa- 
tion she impatiently asked, 

“Larry, in heaven’s name, haven’t you any other 
book to study but the foam book?” 

He laughed easily, “Nurse, this is a big study. Gee! 
I never knew there were so many of the same name.” 

“And haven’t you anything else to do but find that 
out ? ’ ’ she impatiently asked. Something in her tone made 
him turn to her in astonishment and ask, 

“What’s eating you. Nurse?” 

143 


“You are, Larry. Oh, me darlin’ why don’t you do 
something — why don’t you be having a job like your 
father?” 

“Like dad? What’s the use? He has all the rocks 
I’ll ever need, but if they ever get busted, why I’ll learn 
a trade then.” 

“Oh learn it now, Avourneen, learn it now,” she 
eagerly pleaded. 

“Well of all the — Say, what bug’s got you Nurse?” 

“No bug, child, no bug but I do be grieved to hear 
them talking about your laziness,” and to Lawrence’s 
genuine astonishment, not to say solicitude, for he really 
loved his foster mother, she began to cry in the despairing 
way of the old. He bounded from his chair, caught her in 
a tight hug and told her roughly to “cut it out” to shut 
up” and various other elegant phrases till he succeeded 
in drying her tears and making her smile. 

“Now see here — I think more of your little finger 
than all of them put together and I won’t stand for their 
interference. You tell them all to go to Halifax, and say 
— now look here, do you mind me? Listen. If I haven’t a 
job two months from now. I’ll skip the country!” 

“Glory be! What kind of a job?” 

“Now, that’s another thing. Nurse! Not a word — a 
dead secret, and don’t you bother me, nosing round here 
to find out what I am doing. You just keep away till I 
get good and ready to tell you what I am doing and then 
you can tell those busybodies. And now scuttle off be- 
cause that telephone book is the beginning of the job.” 

“Well, well, see that now,” and beaming with pleas- 
ure, Nurse ambled out. 

Lawrence again savagely attacked the book, mut- 
tering to himself in displeasure, “thought him lazy, did 

144 


they ? He ’d show them, maybe when they found out what 
he w’as doing they wouldn’t be quite so ready with 
opinions, etc.” 

“Hang the ‘D’s. ’ How many are there. And I don’t 
know her father’s first name. Well I’ll be switched for 
an idiot. Why didn’t I look in the plumbers. Oh boy! 
Donohue, O’Donahue, Dounahue. What the — she said a 
‘g.’ Wooh! Here it is! Michael! That sounds Irish 
enough. Donaghue. That’s the ticket. This must be his 
shop. I wonder if they are well off enough to have a home 
phone. 0 crickey! Here it is,” hastily writing both ad- 
dresses and chuckling with delight he tiptoed downstairs 
into the cellar. But stumbling with a loud noise over an 
empty box at the side of the stairs, he eagerly held his 
breath in suspense while he heard Nurse in the hall 
remarking to Lucy, ‘ ‘ That pesky cat is down in the cellar 
again. Crazy enough to think she’d find rats.” In spite 
of his precaution Lawrence had to laugh softly, but care- 
fully tiptoing round, he finally found his quest, a hammer 
and a small nail ; and then sped noiselessly up to his room, 
and quickly entered the beautiful hath room and began 
a thorough investigation of its perfect fittings. 

“Not a damn thing the matter with it.” After much 
thought and examination he put the small nail to the 
most exposed pipe and knocked it on the head with a 
hammer. A loud noise was the only result. “Shucks, I’ll 
have to deaden that!” Putting an elegant towel as pad 
to the head of the nail he knocked again and again, till, 
to his delight, he made a very small hole through which 
the water slowly, hut surely trickled. 

Then a mad rush for his hat and coat, a ride on the 
subway down to the old fashioned quarter of New York 
and a much excited young man found himself outside an 

145 


unpretentious plumber’s shop. The only occupant of the 
place, a fine, intelligent old man, whose striking likeness 
to Mollie Donaghue made the fact evident that he was 
her father, opened the door of the shop with a genial 

‘ ‘ What can I do for you sir ? ” 

“You are a plumber?” 

“I am that same, Michael Donaghue at your service.” 
Lawrence bowed — the two men felt a mutual attraction 
while the older man was wondering what brought such a 
handsome swell down to Charles street — Lawrence was 
marveling at the quiet dignity of the old workman. 

“Well I have a job for you. Get your tools and come 
with me.” 

Once in the subway, speeding up town the shrewd 
old man asked Lawrence if all the uptown plumbers 
were on a strike. 

Lawrence explained having some work down town 
and seeing Mr. Donaghue ’s plumber sign he bethought 
him of the leak in his bath tub. 

But Lawrence had not reckoned with the curiosity of 
Nurse and he was not a little non-plussed on reaching 
home to meet her at the hall-door. A surprised look at the 
plumber — and she quickly advanced to meet them, her 
face alive with interrogation. Lawrence’s wits saved the 
day, stepping behind the plumber he shook a warning 
finger of reminder at Nurse. 

“My soul to God,” she said to herself, “what kind 
of job is he thinking of getting,” and then left them. 
Breathing a sigh of relief he signed to the plumber to 
ascend. For one moment as the old man examined the 
leak, Lawrence felt anxious, 

“Humph, this is strange. Mr. Gibbons, this plumbing 
is as near perfect as you’ll get on earth — maybe in heaven 

146 


— I don’t for' the life of me see — why this looks like a 
nail hole.” He straightened himself while Lawrence 
doubled down in pretended examination, and said without 
looking up, 

‘Ht does seem strange.” 

“If you had any boys around sir?” 

“But we have,” eagerly assented Lawrence. 

‘ ‘ Oh ! If that ’s the case, the mystery is explained. 
I’ll have this fixed in a jiffy.” 

While arranging his tools, Lawrence, delighted by 
the outcome of his rascally scheme, chatted gaily on every 
known thing that suggested itself. The older man, fully 
under the influence of the other’s charming personality, 
enjoyed his new experience, and when the pipe was 
carefully mended, he not unwillingly accepted Lawrence ’s 
genial offer to stay for a smoke. To the surprise of the 
younger man, the old plumber was not only intelligent, 
but a lover of books, and in leisure times, an intense 
reader. 

The wily Lawrence saw an opportunity of closer con- 
nection with his new friend and adroitly introduced the 
subject of politics. 

“You are very much interested in politics, Mr. 
Donaghue,” he inquired. “You are a citizen.” 

“Politics! Citizen you say? I am that. Sure what 
kind of a citizen would I be if I wasn’t interested in 
politics?” 

“Not the best kind of a citizen is always interested 
in politics, ’ ’ suggested Lawrence. The old man gave him a 
keen look and laughingly assented, saying to the astonish- 
ment of his listener, 

“But Mr. Oibbons, you must distinguish between 
politics and politicians; the first implies the party that 

147 


governs, or is trying to govern, and in either case the 
voter hopes it is a good one ; the second implies the scamps 
that want to run the government without knowing a 
dang bit about it, except to feather their own nests. Now 
down in our ward, but you are too high up to be inter 
ested down there, in the 9th ward.” Wearing the solemn 
seriousness of a judge, Lawrence assured him he was very 
much interested in that particular ward, having a very 
warm friend there and formulating at that instant the 
resolution to manufacture, if necessary, the required 
evidence of friendship, the rascal asked him to introduce 
him to the particular needs of that particular 9th w'ard. 

If there was one topic that delighted old Donaghue 
more than another, it was politics, so eagerly launched on 
his favorite subject, an hour passed swiftly. Lawrence 
must have been lacking in intelligence, if at the end of the 
interview, he did not understand the merits and demerits 
of the rival candidates for office; it happened, as luck 
would have it, a civic election was near 'at hand. 

When the clock on the mantlepiece struck four Mr. 
Donaghue jumped up with 

‘'By the hokey! I am taking up all your busy time.” 

“Not at all, not at all, Mr. Donaghue,” said Law- 
rence genially. “Of course I’m busy,’ he unblushingly 
continued, “but never too busy to have an hour with 
you. If there is one thing I need brushing up on, it is 
politics and you have such a clear idea on that subject — ” 
he paused, Mr. Donaghue was pleased; here was a young 
man, a rich one, not too proud to learn the law of the land 
from one of the working class, the old man enthusiastic- 
ally said, 

“Look here, Mr. Gibbons, come down some night to 
see me and the boys. You know where the shop is, well 

148 


we live one block south of that. Any one will tell you 
where Michael Donaghue lives. It is me own, a shanty 
compared to this palace — but me own,” he said proudly 
straightening himself. 

Lawrence delighted with the invitation could hardly 
contain himself. 

“Certainly I’ll go see you, and I am glad you own 
your house ; but the attraction there will be yourself and 
your sons. I think I’ll be in that neighborhood the night 
after tomorrow night.” 

Shaking hands on the proposed visit they parted 
mutually pleased. 


149 


CHAPTER XXVII 

LORETTA’S FIRST BALL 

The evening of the Ball found Loretta in eager ex- 
citement, as owing to the rush of orders, her ball dress 
had not arrived. Lady Gordon measured so accurately 
her dresses needed no preparatory fitting, but her patrons 
as a rule received their gowns on the morning of the im- 
portant event. Both Lawrence and her father had made 
several trips to Loretta ’s room to see if the young mistress 
were ready, before the expected gown made its appearance 
When the box was opened, Loretta clapped her hands with 
delight, as Nurse and Lucy carefully lifted the creamy, 
foamy lace dress from its receptacle. 

“Oh, is it not beautiful? Just like a spiderweb, a 
fairy cobweb. Oh, put it on, put it on,” cried Loretta, 
dancing with glee. 

“Well, well, how can a body put it on, when you’re 
actin like a crazy fairy — here, stay still. Hold her curls 
up, Lucy; aisy now, you’ll tear it darlin’.” 

“Where are the sleeves, Nurse, Lucy, where are 
they?” excitedly asked Loretta, turning rapidly from 
side to side. 

“Aisy now,” cautioned Nurse, looking significantly 
at Lucy, “did you find them?” in a whisper. 

“There’s none to find,” said the disgusted Lucy. 

“Ah, here they are, my soul to God! slips of baby 
ribbon,” aspirated an indignant Nurse. 

With wdldly dilated eyes, Loretta looked at her 
refiection in the glass, a vision of beauty, clad in gossamer 
film, but arms, neck and back — ALL bare, and that part 

150 


which was covered was so suggestively expressive of 
nudity that the convent girl could only gasp. 

“Well, hello, finished titivating?” hilariously called 
out her father, breezing into the room where stood three 
awe struck women, “why — a! what the — where’s your 
dress, Loretta?” 

Waking up suddenly, Loretta cried out in great dis- 
tress. “Oh, father go out. I am not dressed.” 

“Not dressed? I should say so. What the devil does 
this mean. Nurse?” angrily turning to the worried old 
woman. 

“Mean? It means that Mrs. Harcourt thought she’d 
try her pagan ways with our darlin’ here.” 

“Kitty Harcourt sent that dress for my daughter? 
Damn it! She must be crazy. What can you do Nurse?” 
but seeing Loretta’s attempt to cover herself with her 
curls, after telling Nurse to fix her up some way, he hasti- 
1}^ withdrew from the room. 

When the first shock to decency wore away, Loretta’s 
quick mind calne to her rescue. Directing the Nurse to get 
her her mother’s wedding veil, a beautiful piece of flimsy 
lace, slightly colored hy age, the three worked quickly. 
They sewed a part of the veil on white silk and inserted 
this in a V-shape in the back, covered the neck with three 
or four folds of wedding veil so that no suggestive flesh 
showed through ; and draped the rest over the beautiful 
arms to the gloved elbow. 

When the attire was finished, Loretta stood a beauti- 
ful illustration of a vestal virgin of Ireland ’s purest pagan 
days, or better still, the highest type of a convent girl, 
at least so her father thought ; but not so Lawrence. 

“Gee, you’re a dream, but say! That’s not Lucille’s 
creation. If Gordon put that out! she’s fit for the angels. 

151 


What did you do with your neck and arms? I bet you 
brought that dress from the convent.” 

‘ ‘ Don ’t it look new ? ’ ’ anxiously asked his father. 

“New? You bet your sweet life, dad, it looks new. 
I can’t remember when I saw a ball dress not decollete. 
But she’s all right! Come on sis.” 

The ball was in full swing when the three Gibbons 
reached the hall. As the dense crowd made an approach 
to the hostess an impossibility, Lawrence and Loretta at 
once joined the dancers; not before, however, Mrs. Har- 
court’s eagle eye had sighted the two. 

“Good gracious, Kate, look at Loretta. Gordon sure- 
ly never sent a dress like that,” excitedly exclaimed Mrs. 
Harcourt. Kate whose dress was shamefully decollete, 
saw and understood. 

“The darling! God bless her. She looks like an 
angel in a crowd of — I do not know what. We do not seem 
decent with her in our midst.” Many beside Kate had 
similar thoughts, as Loretta passed in the crowd. Without 
a word the convent girl preached her sermon. But after 
her first dance with Lawrence, and Loretta had a breath- 
ing spell to look around; she felt sick, so many were 
daringly unclad, young girls, — why there went a girl of 
St. Ignatius Church, a Child of Mary, back all bare ! There 
an old woman — ” 

“Enjoying yourself child?” eagerly asked her father, 
coming up at that moment. 

“I would if I could. How dreadfully they are 
dressed. Why do they do it, father?” 

“Hanged if I know! There you are Kitty.” 

“Gerald, surely Gordon didn’t send that dress.” 

“You bet your life she didn’t!” 

“Miss Loretta,” eagerly interrupted Mr. Sibley who 
152 


had appeared suddenly on the scene, “may I have this 
dance ? ’ ’ They floated off, leaving Mrs. Harcourt and Mr, 
Gibbons in a politely heated discourse. 

Loretta and Leo Sibley danced in silence; he was 
afraid to talk, and she who loved dancing as a flower, 
the sunshine, wanted no other enjoyment. When the 
dance was finished, a little out of breath she said, 

“Let us sit down a while, Tis so very warm.” 

The only available place near, out of the crushing 
crowd, was a little artificially made bower of plants — 
there was nothing to do hut to comply with Loretta’s 
request and seat themselves. Turning at his strange 
silence, she said with genuine sympathy, 

“Oh, Mr. Sibley, dear friend, I have not seen you for 
so long a time. Have you been sick, are you sick?” 

Deadly pale, nearly distraught with sorrow at this 
last glimpse of heaven, Mr. Sibley said in his ordinary 
tones, keeping a tight rein on his feelings, 

“I have not been feeling well, Loretta.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, you’ve been so good a friend to 
Lawrence and me. You were such a comfort to me with 
that dreadful Trixy.” She bent to pick up a fallen flower, 
and all the love for her that was in the man’s heart shone 
in his face, transfiguring it; she looked up to catch hut 
a fleeting expression, for true to his word to keep his 
secret from her, he hid the full betrayal of his love. She 
saw the change in his pale face, however, and rejoiced. 

“You look, oh, so much better. Of course you know, 
Mr. Sibley, Larry has given up Trixy.” 

‘ ‘ I know. He told me so, ’ ’ he smiled his rare smile ; 
but showed no tenderness, dropping his eyes for fear he 
would. 


153 


‘‘Is not this flower beautiful? It seems a pity they 
must come here to die.” 

“More than the flowers come here to die,” his voice 
was low and intense. 

“What do you mean?” her eyes sought his as an 
innocent child. 

“Oh, nothing, Loretta, are you enjoying your ball? 
Tis lucky for me they failed to see us slip in here ; there 
are shoals of fellows waiting to dance with you.” 

“You ask me, Mr. Sibley, if I enjoy the ball? I do 
and I do not. The crowd is too large for one thing, and — ” 
she blushed. 

“I understand. Thank God you do not enjoy it.” 

“I enjoy dancing with you,” she said naively. He 
laughed, “I’m glad you do. One more dance, Loretta and 
I’m off — I sail tomorrow in the early morning so I’ll 
sleep on the Hans Albert to night. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I am sorry you are going, ’ ’ she said simply. A shade 
of pain flitted across his face, a mighty effort, and he an- 
swered quietly, 

“Thank you Loretta. I want you to promise me one 
thing, will you?” 

“If I can,” she simply answered. 

“You will soon make your real debut, you will then 
be in this atmosphere constantly, in the swim, as they say. 
Tonight, the sordidness of the thing, the — if you will 
pardon me — rottenness of our so-called society, the purely 
fashionable, those who read are not vulgar, has shocked 
your womanhood — but the next time, you will not be so 
shocked — the next, the effect will be slighter — but pro- 
mise me, no matter what influence is brought to bear on 
you, you will never become a woman who has ceased to 
blush — you will never be one of them — ” he paused; she 

154 


has been listening eagerly with varying expression, hold- 
ing herself inrestraint, suddenly she hurst out. 

“I can promise you that. I shall never cease to he 
shocked at half dressed women, if that’s what you mean, 
oh, Leo,” she had involuntarily used his Christian name, 
he started towards her with a glad cry, but instantly re- 
strained his emotion and asked quickly, 

“Yes, Loretta, what is it?” 

‘ ‘ Oh, I thought of what Sister Ambrose used to teach 
us ; to remember that the difference between the saint and 
the sinner is in the use we make of God’s grace. Perhaps, 
those poor girls — ” she stopped; never had she looked 
more beautiful; his eyes flashed, he knew she did not 
love him, but he knew that she appealed to him as to one 
who understood — could he not make her love him? The 
thought was joy; no, his only salvation was in flight. 

“Loretta, I asked for another dance, but — ” look- 
ing at his watch, “I must go, you will pardon me.” His 
face paled, the lines of pain were distinct, all the tender 
sympathy of her nature awoke. “ 

“You are ill, I know. Here take some of these flow- 
ers — ” 

Plucking them from her corsage she handed them to 
him with the simple grace of a child and then turned to 
adjust her dress. She did not catch him kissing them 
rapturously, but her father, who had been watching the 
two for the last few moments, saw and understood. And 
when he noted how quickly Mr. Sibley put himself on 
guard, whenever Loretta looked in his direction, the 
courage of the younger evoked the older man’s sincerest 
admiration. 

“By George! the poor devil! He’s got sand. Hello, 
Siblej^, not going so soon. You have loads of time. Some- 

155 


thing to fix up? Oh, in that case — Here, Larry, can’t you 
get a partner for your sister?” 

“A partner! dad? Great Scott! the boys have me 
pulled to pieces. Yes, certainly Mr. Wead, Loretta, oh say ! 
Bill, patience. Now Jack that’s unkind — What, Wally? 
‘Et tu brute’?” laughed Lawrence, besieged on all sides 
for an introduction, while Loretta, in the hurry of the 
moment could only say, ‘good-bye, dear friend,” and 
Leo Sibley passed out of her sight ; and — out of her life. 

Mr. Gibbons, hurrying after him in the crowd, Law- 
rence failed to take in the significance of his friend’s de- 
parture, called out, 

“Sibley, hold on, look here, lad, — I saw and under- 
stand. I respect you as a man.” 

“Thank you. She is an angel.” 

Mr. Gibbons touched by the other’s grief said brusque- 
ly, “She is too young yet. I’m not anxious to lose her — 
but Leo Sibley, I think a heap of you, — ” 

“Oh, don’t. Good God! don’t tempt me.” 

‘ ‘ Tempt you ? ’ ’ exclaimed the other blankly. Hastily 
searching in his vest pocket, Mr. Sibley took a newspaper 
clipping from an old pocket book, put the slip into Mr. 
Gibbons ’ left hand, and wringing his right hand so tightly 
as to make him wince, dashed down the stairs. Eagerly 
reading the clipping, Mr. Gibbons gave vent to a long 
whistle and slowly and sadly re-entered the ballroom to 
find Loretta in great distress with one beautiful arm and 
shoulder completely denuded of covering. The lace of 
her dress having been caught in some lady’s hanging 
chains, was torn off. Appealing to her father, Loretta 
quickly sought the dressing room, only to find it empty, 
at least so she thought, until heavy sobs in a distant cor- 

156 


ner, startled her. Kate the gallant, with face buried in a 
lounge billow, was sobbing to break her heart. 

“John — he says; oh dear. Yes he got home sooner 
than he expected, came right here — oh, oh, he says he’s 
ashamed of my dress — won’t dance with me.” Loretta 
rose to the occasion. 

“Here Kate, stop that. See, I brought this as a wrap ! 
Is it not pretty?” holding up a beautiful red china silk 
scarf, ‘ ‘ See, throw it round you so, oh ! you look stunn- 
ing. ’ ’ Kate laughed in spite of herself, and after explain- 
ing to Loretta, she despised her own nudity, only did it 
to please her mother, knowing the big disappointment 
her poor ma would get; would never again sacrifice the 
smallest particle of principle for any one ; was a pagan 
anyhow, would soon, please God, be a Christian; gaily 
left Loretta, the latter assuring her that as her dress was 
beyond repair, she was going home. 

John Russell, moodly standing near the door, radi- 
ated happiness at the sight of Kate draped in a brilliant 
scarf and catching her delightedly swung her off into a 
two-step; but not before Mrs. Harcourt took in every- 
thing. Almost beside herself, her mother could hardly 
wait till the end of the dance to follow the two into one 
of the little bowers. 

“Kate Harcourt, what does this mean? Are you and 
Loretta determined to set me crazy?” 

“Ma, darling!” 

“Answer me Kate. What does this mean?” 

Realizing it was too late to temporize, Kate bravely 
faced her mother and said in gentle but determined tones, 

“John did not wish me to be dressed so, or rather un- 
dressed, Ma.” 


157 


‘‘John! Good heavens. What has he got to do with 
your dress?” 

“A good deal, Mrs. Harcourt, I couldn’t stand for my 
intended wife wearing such a dress.” 

A look of horror! A terrific sweep of anger, then 
a wild wail of agony and Mrs. Harcourt sank to the floor 
in a faint. 


158 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

“THE SHADOW OF THE GARDEN’’ 

That night a man almost distraught with sorrow 
paced the silent deck of the Steamer Hans Albert, his 
steps heavy weighted, sounded as a death knell on the 
silent air, his hot face cooled by the breeze from the sound 
alternately paled or reddened as emotion shook his frame, 
his brilliant eyes shone with fevered passion or swam in 
hot blinding tears; as back and forth he paced, till the 
stars dimmed out by the approaching dawn disappeared, 
then, physically tired, he sank on his knees and stretching 
out his long arms in the direction of that part of New 
York wherein she lived, he prayed aloud, 

“God protect and bless you my angel Loretta. Oh 
Jesus, through your agony in the Garden help me live 
my life.” 

He rose; and the watch, passing on his way to 
be relieved, noticed a pale faced gentleman who courte- 
ously responded to his greeting. 

Leo Sibley had met our Lord with the cross and 
quietly, resignedly and bravely took it up. 


159 


CHAPTER XXIX 

WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK 

When, sometime before the catastrophe of the ball 
Mollie in a hurried visit to her home beheld the rascally 
Lawrence basking at the Donaghue hearth, she had no 
words to express her blank astonishment. Indeed so ap- 
parent was her surprise that her keen-witted Irish-Ameri- 
can brothers caught the situation at once and on the spot 
became silent gleeful allies of the wily Lawrence. Not so, 
Mr. Donaghue, blinded as he was by his new friend’s 
charming personality, he did not understand and took an 
opportunity before Mollie ’s departure to tax her roundly 
with rudeness towards his esteemed guest. 

“Let him stay where he belongs, we don’t want him,” 
exclaimed a thoroughly exasperated Mollie. 

Her father looked at her in blank amazement and in 
his most dignified manner closed the subject by saying, 

“Mollie, I am ashamed of you. Is that all the man- 
ners the nuns taught you. I’m master in this house and 
I’ll have what guests I like, so there now.” 

After this, it was easy for Lawrence with such valua- 
ble allies as the male Donahues to make opportunities of 
meeting his rebellious mistress, and she, try as she would, 
gradually but surely became an unwilling captive to his 
charms. Then too, Mrs. Harcourt’s dangerous illness, 
resulting from the failure of he!r ambitious schemes, 
helped to throw Mollie and Lawrence often together ; for 
Loretta, torn with anxiety and love made use of a much 
too jubilant messenger in the guise of her brother to the 

160 


Harcourt household. Either Lawrence or she was always 
in attendance at the sick bed. 

Kate, torn with love and remorse was sorely in need 
of sympathetic friends. Just as the beauty of the Old 
Church had enthralled her senses, reason and soul, and 
had filled her with ardent longing to become a Catholic, 
her mother’s mortal illness fell like a pall. In the dread 
anticipation of a sudden death, Kate turned to Loretta 
and in her absence to her brother. Unused to sorrow, the 
selfish Lawrence was deeply affected by Kate’s bitter an 
guish and really rose to the occasion and became a valu- 
able adjunct in the sick room. But when he saw" the 
ardent love John Russell openly displayed for Kate, 
Lawrence instinctively turned to Mollie trying in vain 
to win a kindness from her. 

On one of these occasions, a highly exasperated young 
woman beckoned a delighted young man out of a dark- 
ened sick room and, standing in the doorway, met him 
with a very determined 

“Mr. Gibbons, this has to stop.” 

With well simulated surprise, Lawrence gravely 
asked, 

“What has to stop, Mollie?” 

“Oh, bother, you know perfectly well, Mr. Law- 
rence, I will never marry a man that has no religion. ’ ’ 

Staggered a little, knowing he was dealing with a 
very decided young woman, Lawrence put on a brave 
front and gravely assured her he was glad to hear it; 
a call from a distracted Kate put an end to this encounter 
of wits. But it had its effect, that Saturday night saw a 
very handsome young fellow kneeling humbly in the con- 
fessional, and the next morning revealed a reverential 
young man receiving Communion at the side of a dread - 

161 


fully distracted young woman. And a villianous grin of 
jubilation in a chance (?) meeting at the church door 
did not serve to add to the composure of the young 
woman. The little love episode, however, between Law 
rence and Mollie was some time after halted by tragedy. 


162 


CHAPTER XXX 

A PERFECT ACT OP CONTRITION 

Mrs. Harcourt struck with heart paralysis had for 
weeks been wrapped in semi unconsciousness. Kate to 
whom the Catholic religion then meant ever3rthing was 
nearly distracted with fear. 

* ‘ Oh, Loretta, what shall I do if she dies without for- 
giving me ? Mother darling, speak just one word — Oh my 
God, do not let her die without a word. Oh, I cannot let 
my precious mother go without recognizing God. Oh, 
one word to God, only, I am satisfied. Oh, Loretta, Law- 
rence, John,” frantically cried Kate, “Oh, all of you, 
pray she’ll make an act of perfect contrition. Father 
Dusette, “springing up to meet him. “that would save 
her?” 

“Certainly, my child, and she’ll make it too,” he 
answered soothingly, and bending over Mrs. Harcourt, 
who was then heavily breathing her last, he whispered 
in her ear, They waited — no response. Again he tried — 
nothing ! That the end was near was apparent to all. Kate 
distractedly threw herself on her knees. 

“Father, she was baptized in the High Church; ask 
her if she is sorry. Oh my God, ‘don’t let her die that way, 
mother darling, listen to him, do you. Oh press my hand, 
dearest. Oh God, she did!” shrieked Kate. “A perfect 
act. Father.” 

‘ ‘ My God I am sorry for my sins, not through fear of 
hell but because I love you,” the priest’s low, round 
tones, insisting, “because I love you.” Kate watching the 
stolid face saw a movement of the lips, and felt the press- 

163 


ure from the dying hand as her mother died making an 
act of perfect contrition. With a wild, glad cry, throwing 
herself into John’s outstreched arms, 

“Oh, John, my beloved Mother is saved. She is 
saved, ’ ’ Kate rapturously exclaimed. 


164 


/ 


CHAPTER XXXI 

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 

Mrs. Harcourt’s miraculous conversion at the moment 
of death, had a wonderful effect on Lawrence. Never had 
death touched him so closely; never had the capacity of 
the human heart for love and anguish been so directly re- 
vealed to him as it was in the case of Kate. 

In that interval of revelation, he saw the woman in 
Kate, he realized that the interior soul meant more than 
regular features and with that understanding came a 
contempt for his own past shallow analysis of character. 
What a fool he had been, rejecting his sister’s friend be- 
cause of her Caesarian nose, and accepting Trixy. Well, 
please God, he had learned a lesson — and he would see 
to it that he would show his wisdom in making Mollie ac- 
cept him. 

Kate, overwhelmed in grief could not hut notice the 
change in Lawrence, how kind he was, how thoughtful. 
He and John saw to everything, not a necessary detail of 
the funeral was forgotten. And soon after that sad event 
all parties concerned thinking it best. Father Dusette mar 
ried Kate and J ohn. 

It was a quiet wedding, in the basement of St. 
Ignatius ’ Church. The hour was early — all present, grate- 
fully happy. A pretty wedding breakfast following at 
the Gibbons’ home with only Father Dusette, Mr. Gibbons, 
Loretta and the irrepressible Lawrence present ; of course 
Nurse, Mollie and Lucy were very important adjuncts to 
the success of the affair, then a,' bridal tour on the eleva- 
ted, Kate emphatically declined all use of autos to the 
cozy little house in Yonkers; and John and Kate Russell 
began a new life. 


165 


CHAPTER XXXII 

TWO LETTERS 

A little before noon, after seeing the bridal pair to 
their new home, Father Dusette entered his humble room, 
to find a large, foreign looking letter placed on his desk. 
He eagerly opened and read. It was from Leo Sibley, af- 
ter a few minor details the important part was, 

“Before sailing I had a hard time to make Mildred 
leave her husband without the scandal of a divorce, of 
course he absolutely refused to give her alimony. That 
staggered her, but when I worked on her mother love and 
told her to live so she could meet her son in heaven and 
promising her a quarterly allowance from my salary, she 
yielded. I am enclosing a check which you will give her 
when she calls. I made her promise to go to you, hoping 
you would teach her to love God. 

Of course I am out of the U. S. for “Keeps.’’ Never 
again. That thought when I reached Paris and got to 
work made me mad — clean insane. It was tough, more 
than I thought I could tackle. One beautiful face haunted 
me. I tried to force Mildred’s face in its place, but it 
wouldn’t work. I prayed, God, how I prayed — I worked 
as the office men said, like one possessed, and then, my 
dear old Father, God’s grace got the upper hand of the 
devil; and peace came. Now I am happy! I rejoice at the 
struggle that every day brings, knowing with every ob- 
stacle surmounted, I have met Him with his Cross. Oh I 
Father, it is grand. I am living now, a great, big, active 
life. I am fighting in the Arena. And you, God love you, 
my dear old Father, have made me what I am, 

Your devoted Leo. 


166 


With his brilliant eyes dim with tears, glad tears, 
Father Dusette sought his usual refuge in sorrow and 
joy— prayer. 

A second letter from Leo Sibley found its way to Mr. 
Gibbons’ office. The winter thanked his employer for 
his munificent salary and still better for Mr. Gibbon’s 
promise to see that the Paris position be made a permanent 
one, “For you understand,” the letter ran, “loving Lo- 
retta as I do, I may never dare to live near her. I have 
left my heart in the United States, but my soul to do and 
dare is here. 

I enclose a clipping which I beg you to give to 
Lawrence under a promise of secrecy. I love the kid and 
I wish him happiness. A peep into my wretched past may 
be of help to him. Regards to Loretta, Larry, Mollie, 
Nurse, Kate, John. 

Devotedly, 

Leo. 

The enclosed clippings were two slips of newspaper 
of different dates and years, the first ran 

“WEDDED IN THE SACRISTY OF ST XAVIER’S 
CHURCH. Our talented townsman, Leo Sibley, and our 
popular ballet dancer, Maybelle, family name, Mildred 
Spencer.” 

Dated two years later, the second newspaper clipping 
read; 

“MRS. LEO SIBLEY NEE MILDRED SPENCER, 
the former danseuse Maybelle of ballet fame, granted 
divorce from her husband, Leo Sibley, charge non-con- 
genial; cruelty. Husband not appearing, the divorce was 
granted. Rumors say Mrs. Sibley will shortly marry Mr. 
James Brown, the millionaire.” 

167 


There were tears too, in Mr. Gibbon’s eyes as he rev- 
erently folded the slips into Leo Sibley’s letter and care- 
fully locked in a secret draw, his heart story. 


168 


CHAPTER XXXIII 

LAWRENCE ILLUSTRATES WILLPOWER 

The wedded happiness of Kate and John was as fuel 
to the love fire in Lawrence’s heart and having made his 
peace with God, he naturally supposed the course of true 
love was bound to run smoothly, but alas for human hopes ! 
Molly actually refused him — the reason? She was Mrs. 
Harcourt ’s cook, or she had been — she would not disgrace 
the Gibbons family. Mollie found to her sorrow that she 
really loved Lawrence, in fact loved him too much, as she 
claimed, to disgrace him. In vain, Lawrence used all his 
eloquence, even borrowed that of his intended father-in 
law and brothers-in-law, all to no purpose. 

‘ ‘ In heaven ’s name, Mollie, what is a lot of money that 
it should wreck two people’s lives. Lord, I’ll chuck every 
cent of my inheritance into the Hudson.” 

“And then?” quietly asked Mollie. 

“Why marry you, of course,” promptly answered 
Lawrence. 

“And what would you live on,” sarcastically asked 
Mollie, steeling her heart against his ardent love. 

“Why — why — I’d work,” triumphantly. 

“You would ! And you don’t know a thing. Sure you 
are too lazy to work.” 

Stung beyond endurance, Lawrence dashed from her 
presence; a month passed before she saw him again. A 
month of sorrow, desolation and agony so great that 
Mollie felt she could hardly endure it; when before her 
amazed vision, she saw a dirty, mud-bespattered young 
X:)lumber in the wagon with her brothers. The battered 

169 


hat was courteously removed from the beautiful head, and 
Lawrence grinned delightedly at his amazed sweet-heart. 

There was no way out of it ; and the end of that week 
Mollie was married at early morn in St. Ignatius Church, 
the only witnesses being her own relatives, and Loretta 
and Nurse. 


170 


CHAPTER XXXIV 

MOLLIE WINS OUT 

A short time after this had happened, a very angry 
man entered the Gibbons’ house. 

‘‘Loretta, Loretta, Nurse, where the devil are you,” 
he called. 

“Here, father darling,” quavered Loretta, fearing 
the worst. Without kissing her Mr. Gibbons angrily 
threw off his overcoat, pitched his hat in the direction of 
the stairs and then stalked angrily into the reception 
room closely followed by Loretta, with Nurse, keeping 
guard at the open door. 

“My God! What next! Mrs. Harcourt’s cook! Think 
of it, the son of one of the richest men in New York, 
Mollie the cook, ha ! ha ! 

“Father,” pleaded Loretta, “She is a good girl!” 

“Good!” snorted her father. “What has goodness 
to do with it? We are the talk of the city!” 

‘ ‘ There might have been a greater talk had Lawrence 
married Trixie,” quietly answered Loretta. 

“Trixie?” roared her father, “the ballet dancer? 
Huh! half a dozen of one and six of the other.” 

“No, father, there is no comparison. Mollie is a fine 
girl. She absolutely refused to marry Lawrence; first, 
because he had no religion and then because she would 
not disgrace his family and finally she wouldn’t marry a 
man too lazy to work.” 

‘ ‘ What the devil did she marry him for then ? ’ ’ 

“Lawrence is now a good Catholic and a first-class 
plumber. ’ ’ 


171 


“What— a what?” 

“To show her that he could work, he learned her 
brothers’ trade.” 

“A plumber!” repeated her father, seizing the op- 
portune moment to give the thought time to take root, 
Loretta and Nurse disappeared and estatically hugged 
each other in the hall. 

Long Mr. Gibbons sat till thoroughly saturated with 
the thought, he grinned, saying to himself, 

“By George; the girl that could make that rascally 
young pagan pray and work must have sand.” 


CHAPTER XXXV 

THE SUNSHINE OF THE CONVENT 

Chesterton, in his discription of the Irish character 
says the Irishman is a natural logician. But let an Ameri- 
can, the genuine kind, not the Indian, the only true Ameri- 
can, one who can trace his descent at least three genera- 
tions back to citizenship — let him be convinced as to 
the justice of a disputed point and you have won him. 
Mr. Gibbins’ great grandfather had adopted America as 
his own ; and with the right to vote bequeathed to his de- 
scendants the Celtic nature, warm, inspirational, poetic^ 
just — the rest Was easy, freedom in the air — the liberty 
to expand — the freedom to live and to reason — and the 
result in the third generation was Gerald Gibbons, a fine 
American. After satisfying himself that Mollie had 
worked a remarkable evolution in the character of his 
son, his reason told the older man the younger was right. 
With Gerald Gibbons, to think was to act; and not long 
after the Donaghue family were galvanized into expect- 
ing something about to happen, when the majestic pro- 
portions of Mr. Gibbons dimmed their sitting room door. 

An awkward moment — then Mollie rose womanly and 
sweet with outstretched hand and said, 

“Oh, you are welcome, Mr. Gibbons! We are so 
glad!” A moment’s hesitation and Mr. Gibbons stooped 
and kissed his daughter-in-law, then grasped Lawence 
by the shoulder and with a hug cried, 

“You young scamp.” 

Mr. Gibbons, as the younger Donaghue expressed it, 
was a mixer, and the evening past joyously — the only one 


hitch being Mollie’s decided refusal to move to the Gib- 
bons home. 

“No, no house can stand two heads. I love Loretta 
and she loves me, but one house is not big enough for the 
two of us.” 

With genuine admiration Mr. Gibbons conceded; but 
offered to furnish another home near by. Appreciating 
with all the largeness of her nature her father-in-law’s 
desire to add to their happiness, Mollie knelt beside his 
chair and shyly laying her hand on his big arm while Law- 
rence watched her adoringly, said softly, 

“No, Mr. Gibbons, let Lawrence work for his home, 
give him a job in your office, let him work up, and by 
the time he has enough money to make a home. New York 
will have forgotten he has married Mrs. Harcourt ’s cook. ’ ’ 

Turning suddenly, his eyes full of love, Mr. Gibbons 
gathered Mollie up in a crushing hug. 

“You grand little woman. Lawrence may bless his 
stars he’s got you. How did it happen?” 

“Dad! I think Loretta’s prayers had a good bit to 
do with it.” 

“You bet your bottom dollar on that. Sir,” enthusi- 
astically cried old Donaghue. “That’s a Convent girl we 
Catholics may be proud of.” 

That evening as Mr. Gibbons sat in his beautiful room 
reviewing the pleasant happenings of the day, Loretta 
tiptoing into the room, bent lovingly over him. 

“Father, is not Mollie a dear?” her father had told 
Loretta at their late dinner of his visit to the Donaghue 
home. 

“Most emphatically she is, dress her up and put her 
in a fine house and she ’d pass with the best of them. Let 
them dare throw ‘the Harcourt cook’ at her.” 


174 


‘ ‘ Why should we care if they do call her the Cook ; 
she worked it is true ; why should that throw discredit on 
us papa dear ? Have you not worked, in a different strata 
of society, I grant. And Lawrence, is he not more credit- 
able to us now that he knows how to work than when he 
was just a lazy ornament of society?” 

“Loretta, you are, I am afraid, a little socialist” 
smiled Mr. Gibbons. 

“No father, I have nothing in common with the so- 
called modern socialists but I do respect the worker. I 
am only a girl, but what I have seen of our New York so- 
ciety impresses me with the fact that the idle men and wo- 
men are our breakers of the law of God — are our sinners. 
The world today needs prayer and the monks say, ‘Work 
is Prayer’.” 

‘ ‘ Little logician, where did you learn that ? ’ ’ 

“Where I learned everything good, from the nuns. 
When I feared to leave them to go with you, they showed 
me my duty — to live and work for you. ’ ’ 

“God,” he tensely aspirated. “What have I done to 
deserve this?” 

“Everything, my precious father. You have lived 
your life justly, according to your lights — hut some day 
you will know more ; till then — ” she stopped. 

Looking adoringly at her he reverentially answered. 

“Till then — I thank God for that Convent training 
which has given me my Sunshine.” 

End. 


175 



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